Vestibulum Metus Gelu
by FrostedFeathers
Summary: Crowley has teamed up with Pitch Black to take down Jack Frost before he can be manipulated into siding with Lucifer. However, once Pitch gets a sniff of revenge, he gets greedy, and unleashes his wrath on the young guardian. The Spirit of Winter is in need of help, and it might have to come from two brothers and a fallen angel who have belief issues, what could possibly go wrong?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back! Few things to draw to your attention before you read on, first of, I have a new pen-name; meaning 'KansasAngel94' is now 'FrostedFeathers,' so don't freak out if you see some alerts from a writer with a strange name, it's just me :)**

**So, this is also my first crossover (*nervous laugh*) should be fun! I've also never really written in an 'evil' character's dialogue all that much before so forgive me if it sounds a little off here and there, I'll always try my best! :)**

**The story will be taking off about a year and a half after the end of ROTG and shortly after the episode 'Abandon All Hope' which was way back in season 5 of Supernatural. The Supernatural storyline is going to be adjusted here and there to fit the storyline of the story but I'll try and keep as close to the mythology as possible and will explain if anything changes hugely :) **

**So apart from that, enjoy the ride :) Oh and if anyone is interested, the title means 'Fear of the Frost Child' :)**

**Summary: Crowley has teamed up with Pitch Black to take down Jack Frost before he can be manipulated into siding with Lucifer. However, once Pitch gets a sniff of revenge, he gets greedy, and after some encouragement from Crowley, he unleashes his wrath on the young guardian. The Spirit of Winter is in need of help, and it might have to come from two brothers and a fallen angel, all of who have belief issues, what could possibly go wrong? T for now but could go up to M (Oooohhh! ;) lol)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, neither of them, just playing in their sandbox for a while :)**

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Pitch Black whimpered in frustration at the mess his life had become. There was little else he could do. He had been on the cusp of greatness, could practically feel the glory and the power of belief raining down upon him. But just when all his plans were ready to come to completion, everything had went horribly wrong. His nightmares had turned on him, feeding off his fear which they sensed in mounds.

And it was all because of the meddling of a certain mischievous winter brat.

Jack Frost.

Merely thinking the young guardian's name sent surges of hatred rushing through the once glorious Bogeyman. Pitch didn't know how long it had been since his downfall, time having little meaning down in his fortress, where he had been trapped by his own creations.

Since then, the nightmares had been relentlessly fierce with their former king, having sensed his lack of authority and deciding to reign terror on the Bogeyman so as to maintain him in a near constant state of fear of which they fed greedily. He had been kicked, bitten and trampled on by the nightmares, but even after all that, the physical beatings were not as terrible as the psychological torture he had endured. At any hour of the day, for any length of time, the nightmares would fill his mind with thoughts of his daughter, at times even leading him to believe she was with him, only to have her took away again, or worse, for her to reject him. As well as this, the nightmares would play with his doubts, his insecurities, dragging them to the surface to taunt him with what he does not have.

He had kept himself sane throughout his captivity by thinking of all the delightful ways he could destroy Jack Frost, could bring him to his knees with defeat, just as he had to him. He knew that, just as they had before, his fears would ease and he would rise in power once again, and this time, his plans would not be corrupted by the interference of the little winter spirit.

"So, Pitch Black. You know, for a Nightmare King you're rather unimpressive." Pitch was roused from his thoughts by another English voice announcing his arrival from across the room. It was dark, but from the faint light in his prison Pitch could make out the silhouette of a man shorter than himself. He sensed the evil from the man, the corruption, the fear this man created and what he himself was afraid of. It felt like a demon; there was a slightly sulphuric aroma originating from the man, this combined with the dark but powerful energy originating from the being before him brought Pitch to this conclusion. However, just because he was fairly sure of what was stood in the room with him didn't mean he understood why. The presence of a demon here would be nonsensical; though immortals and demons knew of the others existence, they stayed out of each others way, likewise with the angels.

"Whatever you desire, demon, I can't help you. You have no business coming to _my_ realm to taunt _me_."

"Oh really?" The dubious voice responded.

Pitch merely responded with a glare, not trusting the others presence. After another moment, the demon continued, seemingly unaffected by the glare of the Bogeyman.

"What if I could offer you revenge on Jack Frost?" That piqued Pitch's interest, but he waited for the man before him to continue before responding. "I know what happened that Easter. I know how annoyed you must be, how frustrated. I'm here to help with that."

"How do you suppose you can help me? In case you have failed to notice, I am in no condition to seek revenge on Frost. I may be weak, demon, but I am not stupid." Pitch answered, each word getting progressively more heated.

"Call me Crowley." The demon began curtly, "And that's how I can help you. I can replenish your strength, get you control of your army, and supply you with a number of demons to supplement that army. Frost may be cocky in the face of your nightmares, but would he fare so well with my demons beside them?" Crowley paused, confidence practically dripping from him. He knew his offer would be too good for the defeated king to pass up.

Certainly, judging by the look of desire on Black's face, he was pretty much convinced. But Pitch still sensed a problem,

"What is in it for you? Why do you want to help me?" Pitch questioned, his voice betraying the uneasiness caused by his uncertainty over the motivations of the demon.

"All I ask is a promise of your allegiance, should I need it. There's a war coming, happening actually. The more influential comrades I have, the better." Crowley paused for a moment before continuing, "Plus, while you have him in your clutches I want a word with the Frost boy."

At this Pitch raised an eyebrow, or where his eyebrow would have been if he had any, "What could you possibly want with Jack Frost?"

"Now now, nose out," Crowley tutted, after a slight pause during which Crowley debated how much of his plan he wanted to divulge, he continued, "I need him out of the way, that's all that matters. Now do we have a deal, or don't we?"

"Not so fast, Lucifer is the one who holds reign over hell, not you. How do you suppose to get demons to help me?"

Crowley was not surprised by the question, and he had his answer ready, "Lucifer may be king of hell, but I'm king of the Crossroads, that title gives me good influence, I wouldn't worry. Plus, Lucifer's a bit preoccupied at the moment."

Pitch didn't question Crowley's last statement, he had never paid the devil much attention and was not overly interested in what malicious scheme he was up to now. Pitch mulled over his decision a second longer, "Very well _Crowley_, we have a deal."

"Good choice my man," Crowley chuckled as he advanced on Pitch until he was uncomfortably close.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Well, it's a deal with a demon. It has to be sealed with a kiss, so pucker up!"

Pitch's face fell at that revelation, but nonetheless allowed the demon to press his lips to his briefly as he closed his eyes, waiting for it to be over.

When it was, Crowley rose to his feet, "Well now, that wasn't so bad was it?"

"Well-" Pitch began to respond with a snarky remark but was cut off by a sharp pain in his chest, he could feel his power growing rapidly, the pain lessening as he grew stronger. It was a heady feeling, he felt as if he was being expanded to 10 times his size. As his body and mind regained their strength, he felt all evidence of the past 18 months of captivity leave him, and he once again felt and looked like he had at his strongest.

Crowley just stood there, allowing the Bogeyman to enjoy this moment.

Pitch laughed his manic laugh. He could hear the hundreds of nightmares in the fortress rearing their heads and stamping their hooves as more were made, increasing their numbers well into the thousands. They could feel the return of their master, and they were ready to serve.

Pitch Black, the Nightmare King had returned, and this time, _nothing _could stop him.

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**A/N: So, was it terrible? Should I even continue? Let me know :D Thanks everyone!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi everyone, back with another Chapter. Huge Thanks to **MysteryGirl7Freak** and **Tala White 14** for adding this story to your follow lists, especially to **MysteryGirl7Freak** for also favouriting and reviewing! It's much appreciated! :D**

**This takes off about three weeks or so after the Prologue, happy reading folks! :)**

"Dean come look at this!" Sam called over to his brother, who had only just started cutting himself a sizeable slice of blueberry pie from the kitchen counter of their dingy rented out motel room. Sam had been sat at the small table of said motel room for a mere twenty minutes, keeping a check on the Internet for any signs of demonic behaviour. Since the apocalypse had started, demonic activity had become increasingly common, and it would appear he had hit jackpot for another potential hunt once again.

Only half paying attention to his brother as he focused on his pie, Dean absentmindedly replied, "What is it?"

Glancing up at Dean, a disapproving expression on his face at the older man's lack of interest, Sam answered, "Up in Pennsylvania, some little town called Burgess, something looks to be up, I think it might be our sort of thing." He glanced over at Dean, making sure he was paying attention.

"And? Aren't you gonna tell me what's going on? Or am I meant to just mind read?" Dean replied between mouthfuls.

Sam looked quickly down to his computer screen, hurried by his brother's response, "There have been sightings of black smoke appearing in clouds, the most recent was a few hours ago but this seems to have been going on for a while; similar sightings were recorded way back around Easter last year." Sam paused for a moment, unsure how to continue, "People have described a feeling of fear surrounding the cloud..."

"There's a but there," Dean interrupted,

"Well... it's only children who apparently experience this, adults have little information to give about it, they haven't seen it and those that have are unsure over whether it was just a storm cloud or something on fire. But, they have sometimes seen blasts of ice coming from the direction of the black cloud."

"Ice-shooting-demons who target children? I'm not buying it, since when do demons care about not being seen by adults?" Dean took a mouthful of pie, refusing to be distracted from his sweet treat, "Alright we'll go check it out, how far away did you say it was?"

"Not that far, about 80 miles or so, should we call Bobby or anyone? Demons haven't shot ice before, d'you think he'd know a bit more about it?" Sam questioned his brother.

"We'll get a look at it ourselves first, see what we can piece together," Dean replied finishing of his slice of pie. Sam started to pack away his laptop, while Dean grabbed their duffle bags which were always ready to go, save when cleaning needed to be done, either of the guns or their clothes.

Soon after they had checked out of the motel room, they hopped into their car, and put this town in their wing mirror as they sped down the asphalt road towards Burgess.

~FF 24 Hours ago, Burgess FF~

Jack returned to Burgess with a laugh, buoyed by the wind. He landed smoothly on his lake, checking it was frozen solid as per usual before heading into the town to play with the children. He hadn't been here since Christmas, having been swept away almost constantly by the wind to spread snow and fun across the northern hemisphere during Winter. He had finally a quiet moment, and used that moment to head to his hometown.

Jack had a small collection of believers for nearly two years now, and as he looked back, the time that had passed since Jamie had first spoken his name had been what can only be described as a whirlwind of emotions. Since Pitch had been dragged back to God knows where, Jack had truly been at his happiest. Dropping his gaze to the frozen pond beneath his feet, a smile quirked his lips as he instructed to his oldest friend,

"Wind, take me to Jamie!"

The wind happily obliged, whipping Jack into the air, the young spirit whooping in glee as he gazed down at the winter wonderland below him, a fresh layer of falling snow following his flight. He was excited for another snowball fight with the children, never tiring of being able to actually join in with the fun, something that for a very long time had been impossible.

He landed outside Jamie's house and once he had Jamie's bedroom window in view, he formed a perfect snowball from the ground, infusing it with the spirit of fun, causing it to take on an icy blue tone, before throwing it at Jamie's window. Within seconds, the young boy had came to the window, eyes widening as he saw Jack leaning casually against his staff, smiling in his direction. Jamie nearly jumped with excitement, a huge smile donning his face as he rushed to get his winter clothes, instructing a now 4 year old Sophie to do the same. Jack Frost was here, and that always meant the best snowball fight of the neighbourhood.

While he was waiting, Jack flew to the other houses of children in the near area, throwing snowballs at the windows of the usual children; Pippa, Cupcake, Caleb, Claude and Monty. They had all grown accustomed to Jack announcing his arrival using a snowball, calling them outside for some fun.

Once finished, Jack landed on the middle of the street outside of Jamie's house, waiting for the children. As he waited, he started forming forts out of snow, a pile of snowballs beside each to be used as ammo. He had just finished with this when he heard the first door slamming shut behind him. He looked around to see Jamie and Sophie running towards him, their arms outspread ready to attack him with a hug.

"Jack!" They yelled in unison, before flying into Jack's arms, who had bent down to greet the children.

"Hey guys! Miss me?!" Jack questioned teasingly with a small laugh, the feeling of being hugged still quite unusual to him. Truthfully he missed the children of Burgess, especially Jamie, immensely when he was away, regardless for how short the period of time or how many lights of belief he felt click into place from other children around the world. They were the first to believe. The first to ease the fear of never being seen or believed in.

"Yes!" The siblings yelled loudly, practically bouncing in Jack's arms. By this stage, the other children had joined them, all smiling at the exchange between Jack and the Bennet children, knowing that if it were not for Jamie, Jack may have never become known to them. Jack straightened up, greeting the others and without further ado, helped them into two teams. Once that was decided, Jack called for the snowball fight to begin, a mischievous smile on his face as he threw the first snowball at Jamie.

~FF Later that evening FF~

Jack walked Jamie and Sophie back to their front door. The children had an amazing snowball fight, with both teams doing so well Jack had to declare it a draw. He had floated between the two teams, helping out when one side seemed to be struggling under the cascade of snowballs, the war continuing right up till dusk, with Jack insisting amongst protests from the children that they would have to eat some time, while also promising them the snow would still be there tomorrow and he would be back for round two.

"Thanks for a brilliant time Jack, we had great fun!" Jamie began.

"Thanks Jack!" piped up Sophie in her soft voice, shadowing her brother's comment.

"You'll still come by tomorrow right?" Asked Jamie, raising his head to catch Jack's eyes. Despite himself, even as time went by, it was still hard for Jamie to accept the surreality that Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter, hung around with him and his friends. He never had any difficulty believing in Jack, it was just overwhelming when he thought of a spirit of legend being like an older brother to him.

"Yes of course! Wouldn't miss it," Jack replied without hesitation.

Sweeping down to give his favourite two believers one last hug, Jack rose to his feet, bidding the siblings goodbye before heading off to his lake. Northern winter was Jack's busiest time, and though he'd never openly admit it, exhaustion was starting to hit him. He was looking forward to taking a long overdue rest in the big oak tree at the side of his lake.

It was at his lake, much later in the night, that Jack was roused from his sleeping state by what could only be described as an uneasy feeling, not unlike one North would describe as getting 'in his belly.' He glanced around, eyes straining to see with the help of the full moon which was partially obscured by thick clouds but still sat proud as ever in the late evening sky. It was when he saw one of the many shadows cast by the moon's light move of it's own accord that his senses went on red alert. His mind jumped to thoughts of Pitch, though according to the other Guardians he would be out of action for the next century or so, if the last time was anything to go by.

Jack watched the shadow that had apparently moved with eager eyes, searching for any slight changes in it's shape or form. He dropped to the lake, as silent as a snowflake, edging closer, his staff pointed toward the apparent danger. Jack trusted his instincts, and his instincts were telling him something was not right. The shadow moved, a pair of bright yellow eyes appearing from the darkness. Without a second thought, Jack blasted ice towards the blackness. He heard the shot hit something that sounded solid, and as if reading his mind, the wind lifted him over to where the blast hit.

What he saw made his eyebrows scrunch together, his eyes narrowing as he frowned in confusion. It was a nightmare. The horse like shadow was lying frosted on the ground, already starting to change into a silver powder.

A myriad of questions littered Jack's brain. What did this mean? Was Pitch back? Was that even possible? Would a nightmare be working independently? Why would it be here? He didn't get to question himself further as he was interrupted by a smooth English voice coming from somewhere behind him,

"Hello Jack."

Jack turned around to face the blackness. That was Pitch. He was sure of it. Instead of meeting the Bogeyman, Jack was greeted with the sight of hundreds of more nightmares. The only thought that could cross Jack's mind was 'How was this even possible?!' Pitch should be struggling to order one nightmare around, never mind making and controlling an entire army.

Once he had adjusted to the slight shock, Jack's mind kicked him back to his senses. Before the nightmares had a chance to attack, he let out a blast of frost, freezing the nightmares closest to him, before calling on the wind to lift him into the sky. He rose up like a bullet into the air, risking a glance over his shoulder to see the remaining nightmares following him up. He felt a jolt of panic shake his mind. There were too many. He couldn't outrun them, nor could he defeat them on his own. Nevertheless, he knew he would have to try. He slowed his ascent once he was a considerable height into the air and away from the trees below, luring out as many of the beasts as possible.

The nightmares swarmed ever closer to the frost spirit, their numbers so great they appeared as a grainy mass of black cloud. Once he felt them coming uncomfortably close, he let out an explosion of icy energy, frost shooting out in all directions, the nightmares all halted in their approach, frozen and shattered by the power of winter. Though it did not weaken him to the extent of passing out, as it had done after Sandy had 'died' due to the extra energy he had gained from his few believers, Jack's energy stores were by now extremely depleted. But it seemed to have been worth it, which he was highly thankful for, as he did not think he could put up much more of a fight, the wind already urging him north to seek refuge in his weakened state in the workshop. It was then he saw a wall of black smoke rising from the trees. This looked different, more smoke-like than sandy. It was smaller, sure, but that would be little comfort once they started to attack.

Jack began his ascent into the air as swiftly as he could, gathering speed as he went, shooting up above the clouds. He knew that there were some immortals unable to handle the colder atmosphere beyond the blanket of the clouds and hoped that the nightmares were included in this group. It seemed, however, that he was out of luck on this occasion. The dense smoke passed easily through the clouds, quickly gaining on Jack. The first tendrils of billowing black smoke blasted him with a rush of heat, each hit slowing his getaway even more. It was not long before Jack was completely surrounded in all directions by darkness. He tried to use the last reserves of his energy to strike out at the smoke, but the shots of ice just passed through the billowing fortress having no effect whatsoever.

Jack could feel panic trying to take root in his mind, but even still he fought against it, knowing panic was not going to achieve anything. In fact, it would most likely only make matters worse. The attacks from the mysterious smokey substance were relentless, tossing Jack about like a lifeless doll and causing him to collide quite frequently with the surprisingly solid wall of black smoke around him. Jack could feel his body begin to shut down as he was overcome by the fierceness of the attacks and the exhaustion of the efforts he had already made to defend himself. Before he could do much more about it, Jack could feel unconsciousness take him in its grasp as the black mass opened from the bottom, allowing the lifeless spirit to hurtle towards the ground.

Jack fell from above the clouds landing with a resounding splat into the wooded area below, the wind doing her best to ease the rate of his descent.

With a chuckle, Pitch Black emerged from a shadow next to the fallen Guardian of Fun as black tendrils started to wrap around the young spirit.

"Finally." He began in his smooth voice, leering over his enemy, "I think it's time we had a little fun."

**A/N: Have you noticed? I like ominous endings ;) It just seemed like a good place to end! Hope this chapter was OK! :D Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the delay, every time I tried to write Jack's part it always came out wrong so I hope it's OK now. I'll not talk too much but I do want to say a BIG Thank You to **Tala White 14** for reviewing and to** ambulee**,** purehearts22 **and** sirensoundwave **for adding this story to their alerts, with an extra thanks going to** purehearts22 **for also favouriting! :D Thanks for the support guys!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine sadly, it's just a fun sandbox to play in :) **

**Carry on :)**

Chapter 2

The journey to Burgess was a largely quiet one for the Winchester brother's. This year's Christmas had bought even less joy than usual into their hearts, the occasion tainted from the recent deaths of Jo and Ellen Harvelle. The emotional trauma from that battle was still incredibly fresh, neither brother knowing when they would be able to reminisce on their time spent with the Harvelle's without seeing blood, bombs and sacrifice.

About 10 miles outside of Burgess, Castiel appeared in the backseat of the car. Dean, emerging quite rapidly from his deep train of thought, swerved the car slightly on the slightly icy road, cursing under his breath before addressing the angel.

"Cas! What the hell?!"

"Hello Dean," the angel responded, as stoic as ever, "Sam." He continued, nodding in greeting to the younger brother.

"Hey Cas." Sam replied.

"I thought you couldn't find us because of the sigil on our ribs?" Dean questioned. He had gotten used to having advanced warning of the angel arriving from his phone, and the sudden arrival of his friend while driving had made him slightly on edge.

"I talked with Bobby. He said something about GPS?" Cas answered, his voice questioning at the end, unsure of the term and what it meant. "I dunno," he confessed, "but he used it to find you."

The brother's glanced at each other and half nodded with a shrug of their shoulders. Tracking the brothers around America did seem like something the paranoid old man they loved like a father would do.

"Fair enough," Dean replied, "You still coulda called to say you were coming, I could have hit the car!"

"Apologies, I'll call next time." Cas replied, knowing, even if he didn't understand, that Dean had some sort of connection with his car and was always concerned for the well-being of the vehicle.

"So, what's up Cas? How's the search going?" Sam questioned the angel.

Castiel's eyes had narrowed slightly at the first of the two questions. Sam's lips quirked slightly in amusement. The angel took everything literally and 'what's up' in the literal sense was likely not a question Cas expected the younger Winchester to want to know.

"It has slowed considerably so I thought I'd join with you two for a small while." Cas paused for a moment, eyebrows scrunching together as he thought, "How far up would you like me to describe?" He continued in a confused but serious voice.

Sam and Dean both chuckled, "Don't worry about it Cas, it's fine," Sam replied between laughs.

"You're actually in luck, we're just about to start a case." Dean began before explaining to his friend what they were going to investigate. "Do you know of any demons who attack with ice?"

"None that I know of," Cas replied, shaking his head, "But it isn't as absurd as you might think, Lucifer's element is ice, not fire. He prefers the cold. Some of his first demons could have inherited the same talents."

"Great," replied Sam dryly, not liking the sound of going up against one of Lucifer's earliest demons.

"Huh, who knew the devil ran cold," Dean said, seemingly unconcerned with who or what they came up against. They had already entered the town limits of Burgess and were now searching the snow-covered town looking for a motel. Dean pulled in to the first one they found. After checking in they got themselves settled in their small room. They needed to think of a plan.

~FF Some time later FF~

"OK, so if it's only kids that have seen the thing, we should go talk to them!" Dean argued. He couldn't understand why Sam was being so awkward and all Cas did was sit and look out the window.

"Dean, we've been over this, the parents are having enough difficulty believing their children, they're not gonna let two strangers start questioning them over something they think is just nightmares," Sam responded, appreciating it was inconvenient that the children seemed to be the key witnesses in this cases but still trying to be realistic about their plans.

"But I can't see why not-"

"Dean-" Sam interrupted, only to be cut off my his brother again.

"No wait, what if we were there to help?" Dean suggested, "Like a counsellor or something who, I don't know, wants to help with the nightmares?"

"There to help?" Sam sighed, "Maybe, but it would want to be convincing, the last thing we want is the parents thinking we are encouraging crazy stories."

In the silence that followed Cas finally found his voice, "Perhaps I can also be of help."

Upon seeing he had caught the brothers attention, Cas continued, "I could watch over the children and report back? They'd not know I was there but this way, we might get a better idea of what is going on if we listen in to what they say to each other?"

"You're telling us this now?" Dean said, slightly peeved that Cas had only decided to offer up his side of a plan now.

"Well, you and Sam seemed to be quite adamant that your ways were best. I thought it might be best to wait until you both had came to some kind of agreement." Cas justified. "And we should still do both, but they might say more among themselves than they would knowingly to an adult."

"Alright, well, you do that then," Dean checked his watch, "They'll still be in school, come tell us what you've heard once they're finished up, it's creepy enough you watching them there, actually going into their houses is a little over the top."

"Very well," Cas replied and before any more could be said, he was gone with the distinct sound of fluttering wings.

"Right, well," Dean began, reaching for a beer from the motel fridge, "There's not much else we can do until he comes back," He continued with a sigh as he lowered himself onto the lumpy couch, flicking a switch on the television set as he went. He began to absent-mindedly scroll through the channels, hoping to come across something mildly entertaining to pass the time.

Sam glanced over at his brother, knowing he was right and they would have to just wait it out for now. He opened up his computer, intending on trying to grasp some more of an idea of what they were up against.

~FF~

Jack started awake with a jump. He opened his eyes to be greeted with nothing but pitch blackness. His mind, slowed from sleep, struggled to understand his surroundings. As awareness began to dawn on him, his attention was drawn to the several aches and pains that were littered on his body. It was after feeling a particularly harsh pain from his ribs that Jack first realised he was restrained as he made to move his hands forward to further investigate his aching chest.

With a groan he was hit with an onslaught of memories as he recalled the events that had led to his capture. As he remembered the battle, the resultant marks on his body flared up in pain, each seeming twice as painful now he could remember receiving them.

He took a deep breath to ease the pain and focused instead on his surroundings. He was knelt in the centre of a room, his hands chained behind him attached to a long steel pole which stretched the height of the room. Jack could see little else of the room as he struggled at his bonds. He rose awkwardly to his feet, relieved to stretch out his legs which were cramping in protest from being in one position for what he could only guess was a long time.

He began to test the chains that held him to the pole, searching for any weakness. He was going to get out of here, of that he was sure. Finding little room for movement with the chains, his mind jumped to his staff. His staff! How could he have forgotten before! He instinctively looked down to his right, out of habit just expecting his staff to be always close to hand. It wasn't, and as he looked at the floor around him he had to admit he wasn't surprised. It must've been took by whoever had him, most likely Pitch.

Pitch. How could it be Pitch? Confusion and disbelief raided the mind of the young spirit, knowing that despite the surprise of the situation, there would be no one else who would go to the trouble of capturing the spirit of winter, especially using black nightmare sand. Jack, along with the other Guardians had been so sure they wouldn't have to worry about the Nightmare King for a long, long time. It would seem they had been wrong, Jack thought dryly, a hint of sarcasm twisting his inner voice.

Jack was brought from his musings by the sound of a key entering a lock, followed by a heavy sounding 'click' which seemed to originate from behind him. He spun his head around, heart racing in anticipation. He found it odd that Pitch would lock him behind a door; in his last visit to Pitch's fortress all Jack had saw were overlarged bird cages but then again, he thought to himself, he had saw very little of the lair of the Bogeyman at that time.

The door opened agonisingly slow, Jack readying himself for the sight of his enemy beyond the door. He had noted that he had considerable movement when standing, even if he couldn't use his hands, due to the chain holding him to the pole being reasonably long, and was determined to put up a fight with whoever had came to see him.

Jack's focus soon slipped to shock as he saw who had opened the door. It was not the Bogeyman. It was not even a spirit. It was two humans. Two normal looking men, granted they had ugly looks on their faces and they were the sort of men you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alleyway, but still, they were two men.

Jack did not recover from his shock until the men made to move in his direction. Jack had gotten the distinct impression that these men were not here for a friendly chat, and so he readied his body for action, all thoughts and feelings of pain temporarily shoved to the back of his mind.

The two men stopped in front of the young guardian, almost identical smirks forming on their faces. The taller of the two whipped out a short black strap, drawing Jack's attention to the item. It was rather unremarkable looking, just a black strap with a slightly larger square weight at the top. While his attention was caught, the other man made a lunge for Jack, who instinctively ducked out of the man's reach. Staying close to the pole to prevent the chains from yanking too heavily on his already slightly charred wrists, he stretched out a leg and tripped the man as he recovered, turning once again to grab the Frost spirit.

The man sprawled onto his face, causing Jack to laugh loudly, insistent as ever to face danger with a heart filled with fun.

His chuckles were cut off abruptly from a sharp kick to the young guardian's side from the taller man who had crept up beside Jack to attack. With a grunt Jack fell to his side, the kick having hit his already sore chest with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

After allowing himself a moment to recuperate, Jack hardened his features with determination and turned to rise to his attacker. However, he was never given the chance. Before managing to get to his feet he saw the man above him raise his hand. Jack hesitated, watching and waiting, daring the man to strike him again. But no hit ever came. Jack instead felt his body being held to the ground. He fought to move, only able to raise his legs a few centimetres of the ground with his hands being trapped under his immobile body. He looked down, searching for a sight of the restraints that held him but he nothing was there. A mixture of panic and anger flared up in the young guardian of fun, and he felt ice begin to creep from his hands, which still lay awkwardly behind him, as he glared up at the man.

"Hurry up!" Growled his attacker, not breaking eye contact with the fallen spirit before him as he spoke to his companion. "Get it on him, I can't hold him for much longer!"

Jack smirked at these words, whatever witchcraft this man seemed to be wielding, it was not meant for use against immortals, and having power over winter as well as having the status of a guardian, made Jack a uniquely powerful immortal. His smirk faltered slightly when he saw the man's eyes flash black as he exerted more of his power to hold down the guardian before him.

A demon. Why was he a demon? What was a demon doing with him?! Jack questioned himself briefly before watching as the other man stooped to retrieve the black strap which must've fallen during the previous tussle. The man straightened out the small strap and moved to fasten it onto Jack's ankle, which was still being held frustratingly still.

"No, stop!" Jack began, not wanting these demons to mark him with _anything_ but it fell on deaf ears and the strap was fastened to his right ankle, being adjusted accordingly using the black square at the top.

As soon as the strap was fitted, Jack felt his hands stop producing ice as his powers, that were already difficult to reach without his staff, became inaccessible. He could feel them residing somewhere in him, but they were not open for use.

He growled in frustration, causing the two demons to laugh before they left. Once they had locked the doors again, Jack felt his body be freed from the invisible bonds and he struggled to sit up. He attempted to get somewhat comfortable by leaning his back against the pole he was bound to and folded his right leg so he could get a closer look at the strap on his ankle. He tried with little hope to undo it or slip it off but it unsurprisingly refused to budge. It seemed to be harmless enough, only serving to restrain his already limited powers. He sighed, silently cursing the pains in his body but he knew there was little more he could do for now.

Demons. He thought with exasperation. He knew they existed, but their paths had never crossed before. He had never done anything to piss them off. There was little he knew about the dark species, and he had no idea what Pitch could gain from- The thought was not allowed to go further as Jack realised that Pitch must be working with the demons, giving explanation to how he had returned to power so quickly. That second cloud of nightmare sand that was his undoing wasn't nightmare sand. It was a group of demons.

Feeling more than a little out of his depth in the face of such an adversary, Jack couldn't help but hope that the other Guardians had or would soon notice his absence and come looking for him. What he had heard of demons was not good and he didn't want to be in their company for too long.

~FF~

After locking Jack in the room the two demons headed upwards. They were in an old abandoned warehouse not far outside of Burgess, Crowley refusing to have Jack held in the home of the Bogeyman with the ever-changing fortress being too frustratingly annoying for the demon. They headed toward one of the main offices of the old building were Pitch and Crowley were both waiting their return.

"Well?" Crowley asked once they had entered. Pitch turned to face the two demons as they joined them, quietly assessing their state. The shorter one was scuffed slightly, marks already appearing on his lower jaw. He smirked, glancing at the wooden staff which was perched in the corner of the room, Frost must've put up a bit of a fight.

"Did you get it on him?" Crowley continued. The demons nodded in confirmation.

"Good," Crowley responded, turning to Pitch, "Now he won't be able to go anywhere."

**A/N: That's all from me for now, hope you guys liked it! :) If yous have time, let me know what you thought and thanks for reading! :D x**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Back again :) First things first, huge thank you to **TalaWhite14, MysteryGirl7Freak, darkryubaby **and **wouldbewriter23 **for** **taking the time to review and to **TenthDoctor21, tallia7 **and **AlexatheNerd **for adding the story to their alerts and an extra thanks going to **darkryubaby, wouldbewriter23 **and** TenthDoctor21 **for favouriting! :D **

**This chapter is sort of like a filler, I needed to set some wheels in motion before going much further and I hope you enjoy. There won't be much Jack but we'll focus on him mainly in the next chapter to balance things up :) **

**Disclaimer: Not mine, carry on. . . Do enjoy!**

* * *

Jack was left for what felt like quite a while before he was bothered by anyone again. He was sat casually with his back against the pole, trying to maintain a cool front despite his inner panic at his lack of an escape plan. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Guardians found him, and when they did, the five of them were going to tear this place apart.

Jack heard footsteps drawing close to the door of the room. He stilled immediately, senses all on high alert, his heart beginning to hammer wildly at his chest. He rose to his feet before hearing the creak of the door being opened and the two men from earlier walking in.

"Wow, you guys must be the only two in the place! I hope they're paying you well for babysitting duty." Jack said with a cocky smile.

The two men only glared. "You're coming with us." The taller one, who Jack now decided to call Douche no.1 growled, identical and equally terrifying smirks growing on the two mens faces.

Jack took an involuntary step back, not liking the sound of going anywhere with the two men before him. "Yeah, I don't think so, I'm just fine here." He replied coolly.

"Too bad," without further ado, the tall man had took a large step towards Jack and punched him just below his jaw, and with his hands still entrapped behind his back, he could do little to protect himself. The spirit was sent reeling backwards, stunned momentarily but still somehow managing to stay on his feet. The man grabbed the front of Jack's hoodie, forcing the boy closer to him until the demon was right in the spirit's face. "You're coming anyway." He continued, before all but dragging Jack from his room.

* * *

Castiel arrived back in the small motel room shortly after three in the afternoon. As soon as they saw their friend, both Winchester's rose to their feet, eager to hear what the angel had found from the children.

"Well?" Dean questioned.

"What did you find?" Continued Sam.

Cas looked at either of the brothers, a solemn look on his face. Truthfully he had heard quite a bit, he just didn't know how much to tell the brothers or if they'd believe any of it.

"The children were sad, and frightened for another rather than themselves." He began, "One child in particular, Jamie Bennett, seemed to be most involved, as the other children seemed to rally around him concerning the issue."

"What happened?" Dean pressed when the angel paused.

"A friend was meant to join them for a snowball fight on Sunday, but he never showed, and hasn't been seen since. This caused them to get more concerned about the black smoke three of them had witnessed the previous night, at which stage they told their parents."

"A child's missing? They never put that on the news," Sam stated, alarmed that such an important detail would be excluded.

"No, they wouldn't have." Cas said simply in response.

"What do you mean?" Dean questioned, a gruff tone to his voice, he didn't like to hear of defenceless children getting kidnapped by demons.

"The one they spoke of was Jack Frost." Replied Cas, not saying anymore and just letting that revelation sink into the minds of the two brothers, who, upon hearing his answer, had both froze and were currently staring at him blankly.

Dean was the first to recover, "Well, it has to be a nickname, I mean, it couldn't be _the Jack Frost._" He reasoned.

"I disagree, their descriptions of him sound accurate." Cas replied, causing Dean to take a step back and snort at his remark.

"Jack Frost is real?" Sam quietly questioned.

"Jack Frost is an old man." Dean argued. "He wouldn't be playing with children and they wouldn't want him playing with them."

"Why do you think he's old?" asked Cas, intrigued by the interpretation. He had never met the spirit of winter but the angels had kept a catalogue of the various Immortals, their origin and roles along with a small image to help with identification. Jack Frost, Spirit of Winter, though a nature immortal had been created by Tsar Lunar, which explained how he could be seen; the children must believe in him. The image supplied was of a young boy, about 17 or 18 years of age. He had blue eyes and white hair and carried a staff with which he used to shepherd winter. Definitely not an old man.

"Jack Frost is Old Man Winter," Dean replied, his voice rising in pitch, "Look, it doesn't even matter, he's not real."

"Jack Frost is a young man of about 17. Though he has white hair, I assure you he is not old. He exists Dean."

"Then how come no-one's ever seen him before, huh?" Dean retorted, convinced that anything he couldn't see, hear or touch himself was not real.

"Until a year ago no humans had seen me, yet here I am." Cas argued, he always had an issue with Dean's lack of belief in the unknown.

Dean responded with a glare and looked ready to retaliate in his defence when Sam, who had been unusually quiet, interrupted him. "Wait! Stop, the both of you." Dean looked ready to argue back with Sam but Sam stopped him again. "Dean, no. Listen. How about we go as planned and talk to the children. Forget about Jack Frost for a minute. If it is him then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Sam reasoned.

Dean nodded in agreement, appreciating that he had to stay focused on the bigger picture, "Alright Cas, who saw the black smoke?" He questioned.

"Jamie Bennett, Pippa Mattingly and Dominique Grund, however they referred to her as Cupcake." Cas responded.

"Ok, we'll go talk to them." Dean stated before sitting down and discussing what they were going to ask the children and their parents.

* * *

North finished off sculpting a model of a miniature Christmas tree carved from ice, humming the usual Russian tune as he worked. He watched as the light from the fire caught off the ice in such a way that it looked like the little ice-tree was alight with dozens of Christmas lights. He smiled to himself, enjoying the sight. It was 3 weeks since Christmas and North's time off was soon at an end, in a little under a week he would have to get back into production, and the ice blocks around him would not be used for his own personal sculptures, but for the first models of new toys and inventions.

Not that North minded. He loved what he done, and as much as he loved his time off, he always struggled to refrain from making something during this post-Christmas rest month, and it was for this reason he found himself sat here now.

Later that evening the Guardians were to have a celebration of their own. It was for no real reason, but it was Jack's idea, the boy thinking it would be fun to have a get together when things with each of their individual jobs were reasonably quiet.

The door to North's study was thrown open by Phil the Yeti, who informed North in his own garbled language that the other Guardians were arriving. North immediately stood up and left the study, heading down to the large room beside the globe where he found Bunny and Tooth already gathered and talking among themselves with Sandy currently floating down from an open window of the domed ceiling. Once they saw North enter the room they all smiled, even Bunny.

"G'day mate," Bunny greeted, Sandy formed a waving hand above his head and Tooth flitted over to his side.

"Toothy!" North said in his thick accent when she joined him with a smile, he turned to the other two, "How is everyone?"

"Oh y'know, same old, same old," Tooth replied happily, "When's Jack due to arrive?" She questioned. Her and Bunny had just been talking about their newest guardian and how he had brought them all closer together, the get together planned for that day being a typical example of how Jack had made the Guardians feel like a family again.

"'E should be here, eez he not?" North questioned turning to the yetis in the room. He had noticed Jack was not among them, but just assumed that he had took a detour through the workshop somewhere, the young spirit never missing a chance to explore North's home.

"We haven't seen him," Bunny replied, with Tooth and Sandy shaking their heads in confirmation and the yetis garbling their negative response as well as shrugging their hairy shoulders.

North just chuckled, "Ah give 'im time, 'e will come! 'E's probably off playing with children! Come!" He bellowed, patting Tooth and Bunny both enthusiastically on the back, "'E will be along soon, let us begin!"

* * *

"Morning Glory Circle, pfft-" Dean began, "Honestly Sam, I can literally feel Stepford starting to creep up on me." Dean complained as he and Sam walked up the street of the quiet suburban neighbourhood where the children in question lived. They had agreed to go to the Bennett's first as 'that Jamie kid' (as Dean called him), seemed to be involved in everything. Admittedly, Sam agreed with his brother; Jamie's name had cropped up a couple of times in their investigations already.

"Here, I think this is it," Sam said, gesturing to the house with the number '46' wrote with shiny letters nailed to the wall beside the front door of the house before them. They walked up the little lane, knocking on the door and waited for the Bennett's to answer. They were posing as counsellor's from the local school so they had no I.D.'s to get ready and it was not long before who they assumed to be Mrs Bennett answered the door.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Bennett I presume?" Sam began in a cheerful tone, speaking in his 'formal' voice while reaching out a hand to the woman to shake.

"That's me." Mrs Bennett replied, her gaze shifting between the two tall, and though she cringed at the thought of admitting it to herself, attractive men before her, "Can I help you?" She questioned as she shook their hands.

Dean gave the woman his most charming smile, the brother's sticking to usual protocol and Sam being the one to do the introductions. Once she caught sight of him, the young mother's face began to blush slightly but her attention was soon drawn back to Sam as he continued,

"It's nice to meet you ma'am. My name's Sam Wesson and this is Dean Smith, we're from the school's counselling service. Your son, Jamie, has been saying some odd things in school the past few days and we just wanted to ask him a few questions to make sure everything was ok."

Mrs Bennett did not look surprised to hear her son had been saying strange things, as he had always had a very active imagination, one that had increased in drama that weekend as he started to talk about a Bogeyman and nightmares. However, she did seem alarmed that the school was looking in to the matter so seriously.

"Yeah that's fine, come on ahead in." The brother's smiled at her as they entered the house and were shown to a cosy sitting room and offered tea, which they accepted.

"Jamie's over playing with a friend so I'm just going to give him a call and tell him to come over, ok?" Mrs Bennett said as she handed the two brothers their cups of tea after they had thanked her.

"Yes of course, that's fine." Sam replied as Mrs Bennett left the room returning to the kitchen where the sounds of a phone dialling could be heard.

"What do you think?" Dean asked Sam in a hushed tone as they waited for their host to join them.

Sam's mouth turned downwards in a thoughtful expression, "Well, she didn't seem too surprised to see us."

Dean nodded in agreement just as Mrs Bennett joined them in the living room.

"He's on his way." She stated to the two men.

"Mrs Bennett, has Jamie always had an active imagination?" Dean questioned, wanting to know a bit more about the boy before they met him.

"You could say that. I work four days a week and have been for a while, so Jamie has always kind of had to keep himself occupied." The brothers nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to have a parent who was busy.

"Does he have any outlets for his creativity, like art or music?" Sam pressed.

"Well, it started off with the normal stuff like drawings and things and he always had an ear for mystery; loving the stories of aliens and Bigfoot. But a good while ago he started talking about being friends with Jack Frost and Santa and the Easter Bunny. Y'know the usual childhood heroes? The girls at work say he's a bit old for imaginary friends but it doesn't bother me, they make him happy." Always being fond of how her son's eyes would light up as he told her of the fun he had.

"Of course, that's what matters," Sam agreed as Dean nodded.

"What about just last weekend?" asked Dean.

"Last weekend was different. It had snowed during the week and a fresh layer was falling on Saturday morning. I was at work, my sister was here watching Jamie and Sophie. Jamie was hoping Jack Frost would arrive and have a snowball fight with him and the other children up the street." She paused, seemingly unsure of what to say next. "They had their snowball fight, and that was fine. Later that night, Jamie was up after bedtime watching for the Sandman when I heard him shout for me. I ran up the stairs to see Jamie at the window saying the black sand was going to get him. I looked out the window and saw a flash of lightning and then a really black cloud and that was it. Jamie was really upset over it, saying the lightning wasn't lightning it was ice and Jack Frost must be in trouble. That didn't change especially when Jack didn't show for a snowball fight they were meant to have on Sunday." Her gaze flickered between the two men before her, "Look I'm sure it's just his way of easing away from believing in Jack, I mean, it was never going to be easy-"

She was cut off by the sound of the front door closing. "That must be him now." She rose from her seat and went across the room to let the boy know where they were.

"Jamie, this is Sam and Dean, they're from the school. They want to know about what happened at the weekend to see if they can help."

Sam and Dean both smiled warmly at the small boy, he was around 11 years old, with brown messy hair and big brown eyes that reminded Dean slightly of Sam at that age.

"Hello Jamie," Sam began in his comforting-you-can-trust-me voice.

"Hi," Jamie responded quietly, slightly shy in the presence of the two strange men.

"Are you having fun at school?" Sam continued, starting with some small talk to help put the boy a bit more at ease in the presence of two strangers.

"Yeah, it's ok," He replied, still quite hesitant. Sam shot a glance at Dean, unsure of what to say. They needed to build up some kind of rapport with this boy or he'd never tell them anything.

Dean spotted what Jamie was wearing, it was a faded Iron Man t-shirt, "Iron Man huh? I always liked the Hulk best." Dean commented, and it was like the flick of a switch. The boy's eyes lit up instantly at the mention of the beloved characters.

"Yeah he's pretty cool, but Iron Man is the best! He's awesome!" Jamie responded enthusiastically, smiling as he tried to convince Dean that there was no one like Iron Man. The two started to debate back and forth about who was better, making reference to a range of factors including their powers, their appearance and the various films about them. Surprisingly, to an outsider it looked like a prepared debate with both sides seeming to have an answer for everything but Sam had to admit, it seemed that Jamie was beginning to tip the balance in favour of Iron Man.

Before the two could argue for too long, Mrs Bennett coughed politely and looked at her son, reminding him that the two men before him had not dropped by for a chat about superheroes.

He fell silent, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence like when they had first been introduced to Jamie, rather, it seemed like the young boy was taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Well, what do you want to know?" Jamie asked with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"We were wondering who Jack Frost was Jamie?" Sam responded.

"He's my friend." Jamie said simply and after a slight pause, his eyes shot over to Dean, speaking directly to him. "But he's also a Guardian; like a real life superhero!"

Dean and Sam both nodded, their faces showing their interest at what Jamie was saying whilst hiding the uneasiness they both felt at the conviction with which Jamie spoke of Jack. Whatever his mother may think, the previous incidents had not been a way for Jamie to come to terms with Jack being a myth.

"He sounds like one of the best ones." Dean said to placate the boy, "You had said at school, and to your mother, that he was in trouble? Why would you think that Jamie?"

"Because I saw it! I was keeping an eye out my bedroom window for Sandy and then I saw this big black cloud coming from the trees were Jack's lake is! They were nightmares, I know it!" Jamie answered, his voice taking on an animated tone, pleading with the two men to believe him. "Then there was a huge flash of ice in the sky and it blew them away - that must have been Jack! But more cloud came, and no more big flashes came, just small ones that were hard to see. And then Jack didn't show up for our snowball fight at all on Sunday so I know some thing's up!"

The brothers exchanged slightly bewildered looks once Jamie had finished; the boy talked very fast when he got excited and that had been a lot of information to take in.

"Erm, Jamie, your mother tells us you are quite the artist. D'you think you could draw us a picture of what happened? And a picture of Jack too?" Dean asked. Jamie nodded, running off to the table in the kitchen to complete the two drawings.

The two turned to Mrs Bennett, "They'll be a useful reference tool if we need to talk to Jamie in future."

"Of course, what's the next step?" She asked.

"Next step?" Dean replied in a confused tone, the brother's eyebrows rising.

Mrs Bennett looked at both men in turn, slightly taken aback with how they didn't know what she was talking about. "In helping Jamie? Isn't that why you're here?"

"Oh yes of course, sorry." Sam blurted out, while Dean nodded in agreement, trying to laugh off the situation.

"Brains not working today." He chuckled out, with Sam awkwardly laughing in response.

"Yes, Jamie. We need to reflect on what Jamie has told us, along with his pictures before taking any more action; we try and tailor each child's therapy to their individual needs." Sam stated in a professional voice, completely bluffing what he hoped was the right thing to say. "The school should be in touch."

Jamie then re-entered the room holding two sheets of paper and passing them to Dean.

"Finished already kid? Super!" Dean said in praise of the young boy.

Jamie just shrugged, "I had loads already done of Jack, and I was nearly finished with the other one anyway."

"That's perfect Jamie, thank you," Sam replied in a sincere voice. Both brothers simultaneously stood up, "That'll be all for now ma'am, thank you for your time."

"It's no problem, it was nice to meet you both." Mrs Bennett replied politely as she walked her two guests to the door.

The two brother's momentarily paused once outside, both reflecting briefly on the conversation they just had and what it meant.

Sam looked over at Dean, feeling a need to break the slightly awkward silence.

"So. . . Jack Frost."

**A/N: D'you know what really makes my day? Reviews! Not that I'm hinting or anything ;) Let me know what you all thought and I'll be back soon! :)**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Hi again! Sorry I've kept everyone waiting a bit longer for this chapter, it was showtime for our choir so that has been keeping me busy, plus I got my exam results, and I passed! WooHoo! So my head has just been a bit over the place lately :) **

**Thank you to **Tala White 14**, **Guest**, **MysteryGirl7Freak**, **AirbmaB7**, **darkryubaby **and **AnaEl92 **for reviewing the last chapter! It means so much everyone! :D**

**Things get bad for Jack in this chapter (but don't worry, I didn't go into too much detail so it should still be fine for a 'T' rating), I haven't actually hurt a character as much before so I've been fretting over how it reads but I thought I'd upload it for the craic anyway and sure we'll see how it goes :) **

**Disclaimer: Not mine :( Neither of them :( . . . . Enjoy!**

* * *

"He is in place." Both Pitch and Crowley turned to the sound of the voice, seeing the two demons waiting for them at the door. Pitch had been turning Jack's staff between his fingers while Crowley had sat in the comfy seat behind the desk drinking his way through a bottle of scotch.

"Good," Crowley replied.

"Excellent." Pitch shadowed in agreement before addressing Crowley, "Do you want to speak with him first or shall I?"

"You go ahead darling, have some fun; break him down a bit first, I know you want to." Crowley answered with a smile.

Pitch grinned widely in response, "How did you ever guess?" He replied as he set down the staff and slipped into the shadows around him.

* * *

Jack was led to a larger room where the two demons had fastened his hands to a rafter above his head, causing Jack's arms to rapidly begin to protest as they grew progressively numb. The injuries he had sustained from his fall had long since healed, with only his jaw pulsing slightly from the hit he had sustained from one of the demons. Light rays seeped through the barricaded windows providing Jack with a better idea of his surroundings. There were storage boxes lining the walls, outdated machines at different corners of the room, large bulky objects that were covered with big sheets. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs which only served to add to the creepiness of the place. If Jack didn't know any better, he'd say he was in an abandoned warehouse of some sort, but why would Pitch not keep him in his fortress? Jack shook his head with a sigh, he was never going to understand that guy.

"Jack." Jack broke from his reverie at the sound of his name being called ominously in an English accent from somewhere in the shadows around him. His body stiffened in response, ready for whatever was to come.

"Pitch, was wondering when you'd finally show yourself!" Jack called out in response, maintaining a cool and nonchalant act in the face of his enemy. "Was starting to think you were just going to ignore me."

"Well, well Jack," Pitch replied as he formed from the shadows in front of the young guardian, "I wouldn't want you to think I was too eager to see you." He continued, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Jack laughed lightly, "Oh no, cause kidnapping me and holding me against my will for whatever length of time definitely screams 'not eager.'" Pitch looked flatly over at Jack, considering what to say next. He had waited quite some time to have the little Frost brat in front of him, helpless to fight back, yet now he was here, he was slightly unsure of how to begin. As he paused, he circled the spirit in front of him, his yellow eyes never leaving the Guardian.

"How have you been Jack?" Pitch said, feeling a small taste of frightful anticipation from the boy, which spiked slightly the longer Pitch dragged this out, causing Pitch a slight smile. Jack's fear, as contained as it was, was perfect; the sweet taste of a child's fear combined with the cool, peppermint flavour that could only come from a winter immortal. It was refreshing.

"Skip the pleasantries Pitch, what do you want?" Jack responded sharply, all hints of lightheartedness gone, knowing full well that Pitch was enjoying Jack's discomfort, regardless how much he tried to hide it.

"Now Jack, don't tell me you've lost your manners." Pitch replied smoothly, moving to the Spirit's side. "Fine. If you won't tell me then I might as well tell you. I've been terrible," he began, circling Jack while remaining in his personal space until he was face to face with the white haired boy. "Nightmares are good soldiers, until they turn on you." He paused briefly, "the things I had to endure; you can't imagine. And all the while you and the other Guardians stayed up here, doing what you have always done. But through it all, the only thing that kept me sane was thinking about my revenge, how good it would feel, and now it's here." His eyes bored into Jack's as he revealed his sufferings and the motivations they gave rise to, with Jack returning his stare with a steely gaze of his own, ice blue eyes hardening with angry emotions.

"Yeah? Well you better keep dreaming, cause once I get out of here, things will go back to how they were, and that's if you're lucky."

Pitch broke from his thoughts, backing slightly from the Frost child and resuming his circling with a mirthful laugh, "Get out of here? My dear boy how do you plan on achieving such a thing?" He mocked.

"You know how Pitch, the other Guardians will come, and then you'll regret ever coming near me." Jack replied, his voice strong and full of trust that the Guardians would rescue him.

"Oh really?" Pitch questioned dubiously. Jack merely rolled his eyes at Pitch, knowing that Pitch was about to go into the many reasons as to why he thought Jack's theory would not be the final outcome.

"Well Jack, you've been with us a while now and there's not a Guardian in sight." He continued, "Did you ever think that maybe they don't want to find you? Even when you joined them it was only because they needed you. They didn't care before, and they don't care now." Pitch taunted.

Jack glared heatedly at Pitch, "They'll come. Things have changed, we're a family now." Pitch laughed in mockery, muttering between chuckles how 'adorable' that idea was. Jack felt indignant anger rise in him, "Just because your allies turned on you it does not mean mine turned on me. You deserved what you got." Jack continued, his voice laced with venom.

Pitch stopped at the comments and paused for a moment, his expression unreadable before raising his hand and snapping his fingers.

Initially, Jack's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the older spirit's actions, but the instant Pitch's fingers snapped, a sharp burst of electricity spread through Jack's body, originating from his cuffed ankle. The shocks burned painfully through his chilled body and caused his muscles to tightly seize as he jerked somewhat wildly. It was over as quickly as it began, leaving the young guardian in a shaken state as he struggled briefly to regain his bearings after being caught completely off guard. Pitch had once again advanced on the winter spirit, leering over him as the guardian recovered from the painful shock.

"What the hell was that?" Jack exclaimed loudly, having found his voice.

Pitch smirked dangerously, "Having friends in low places has its benefits Jack, so I'd watch your tongue from now on."

"I'm not afraid of you." Jack reaffirmed, knowing that, if nothing else, it would annoy the Bogeyman.

Pitch reached out and grabbed Jack's cheeks tightly with one hand, his long nails at risk of breaking Jack's skin and forcing Jack's face to look up at him. Jack closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the Bogeyman when it wasn't under his own terms. Pitch inhaled deeply, eyelids fluttering as he did so looking incredibly like a cook smelling his food. "Oh I know. But you are afraid of something." Pitch released Jack's head sharply, causing him to jerk backwards slightly, chains pulling on his already sore wrists. At his words, Jack's eyes shot open, waiting for Pitch to continue.

Pitch circled Jack so he was directly behind the boy, striding a few feet away from him. He began silently calling on his black nightmare sand to form a long black whip in his hand. He inhaled deeply; it was almost a spiritual thing, a cleansing if you will. For so long it had seemed that he'd have to wait another few centuries before manipulating his nightmare sand like this, and with every hit, every lash he endured he had promised himself that regardless of how long it took, he would exact the same treatment on the one who had sentenced him to such a fate.

"I'm sure you've noticed," He began as he worked, "You're in a very vulnerable position Jack." The young guardian offered no response, so Pitch cracked the finished whip on the floor close to the spirit, eliciting an involuntary flinch from Jack. Pitch grinned in satisfaction. "You may not be afraid of me, but you're afraid of what I can _do _to you."

Without further ado, Pitch swung the whip again, this time making contact with the boy's back, slicing his hoodie and leaving a long red gash on the pale skin underneath.

Jack gasped in pain before clenching his teeth, adamantly refusing to give Pitch the satisfaction of hearing him scream. That was little comfort, however, as the whip was unleashed again and again. Jack set his mind to the task of keeping his breaths deep and even, calming him and helping him deal with the unbearable pain stemming from his back. He closed his eyes, gaining strength from the thoughts of anything good; his believers, Jamie and the Guardians.

Pitch carried on, unsurprised at Jack's refusal to scream. He didn't mind, Crowley had encouraged him to break the spirit, Jack's stubbornness was just going to make it all the more fun.

* * *

Dean parked the Impala outside of the local diner. They had already contacted Cas to meet them here and were expecting him any minute. After leaving Jamie's, they had proceeded to talk with the other two children, who both gave similar, though slightly less detailed accounts of what was going on in the neighbourhood. They had waited until the angel was present to go over anything of what they heard and although Sam disagreed with discussing such topics in a public diner, Dean was hungry.

Once they had entered the diner and took their seats, Cas walked in the door, having just appeared outside. Spotting the brothers, he made his way over and seated himself beside Sam. Both Sam and Dean ordered some food and drinks, with Cas opting only for a glass of water which was left sitting on the table throughout the meal.

Cas began the conversation, "Well?" He prompted.

The brothers exchanged a long look, inhaling deeply, both still a little dubious about what they had heard from all three children. But, they had no other leads so, "We think it might be Jack Frost, maybe not _the _Jack Frost but a spirit of some sort who died a cold death and has convinced themselves he's Frost." Sam explained. Dean merely shook his head and continued munching his way through his burger.

"What did the children say?" Cas pressed, not even bothering to argue over the spirit's identity; they would come to the proper conclusion eventually.

"Well they all, especially Jamie, seemed certain Frost was attacked by nightmares." Dean explained between mouthfuls, "He drew us this picture, and this is one of the kid." He continued, showing his friend the pictures Jamie had provided them with.

Cas studied both of the pictures closely. "This is Jack Frost." He announced, his voice portraying his certainty. "And this picture could be of nightmares."

"Why would they go after Jack Frost?" Sam questioned.

"Nightmares are under the control of the Bogeyman. They have similar physical properties to that of a demon. However, as with all the legend immortals, you must believe in them to see them." Cas paused briefly, momentarily caught in his thoughts as he pieced together the various pieces of the case. "If Pitch Black is involved, he must be working with demons. Adults would not have reported seeing a 'black storm cloud' otherwise."

Cas' eyebrows furrowed together as he thought deeper into Sam's question, trying to remember every detail from the files on both immortals that would connect the two. "Did the children mention anything about Jack or Pitch meeting in the past?"

"No not really," Sam replied.

Cas sighed slightly as he glanced around the diner. Pitch Black only had any real dislike for the Guardians as he saw them as direct competition for believers. Jack however had very little to do with the Guardians, mainly keeping to himself beside some interactions here and there, and even then it was really only with the Sandman. "What did they say about Jack?"

"Well, that he was good fun, liked playing in snowball fights, the usual stuff, just like any other kid." Dean explained.

"Jamie also said he was like a superhero, he called him a Guardian?" Sam continued, his voice raising in confusion at the end.

This caught Castiel's attention, "A Guardian?" If this was true, Jack's guardianship would have to have been recent; the angel's having had less time to watch over Earth now their own plans were coming to a head.

"What's a Guardian?" Dean pressed, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"They are legend immortals chosen by Tsar Lunar, the man in the moon, to protect the children of the world. They also require belief, but they have plenty of it so they are incredibly powerful. There is North, Toothiana, Bunnymund and Sanderson. Pitch detests them; the more that believe in the Guardians, the less believe in him."

"I've never heard of them." Dean argued instantly, causing Cas to look at the older Winchester with an exasperated look on his face.

"They are widely known as Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and the Sandman." He explained bluntly. Dean merely rolled his eyes at the mention of the childhood fables, causing Cas to sigh in frustration. "Do not underestimate the group because of what you think you know."

"Dean, hear him out. I mean, we used to think angel's were little naked babies with harps and wings." Sam shadowed, attempting to rationalise with his brother.

"If Jack is now a Guardian, it would definitely give Pitch reason to attack him." Cas reasoned with Dean; the evidence was stacking up in favour of what the angel was saying and neither Winchester brother could ignore it for long. "I will return momentarily." Before giving either brother a chance to reply, Cas was gone.

* * *

The Guardians were all crowded around the large, roaring fire the yetis had lit in the meeting room of the workshop. They had paused their festivities, none of them feeling in a celebratory mood until Jack arrived, and at this stage, he was really quite late. Bunny leaned against the fireplace, a frown on his face; North paced in front of the fire muttering to himself; Toothiana buzzed around the room; while Sandy sat on one of the stools at the counter, waiting anxiously for Jack to arrive as he watched tensions begin to rise.

"Where is he?!" Bunny sighed exasperatedly. "I know the kid's not the best time keeper, but he wouldn't be one to miss a party."

North paused in his pacing, looking over to Bunny, a worried expression on his face.

"North? What's wrong?" Tooth questioned. She herself had been getting progressively more worried about Jack the longer he was absent, and now she had let herself worry, her mind had began conjuring every terrible situation that could have happened Jack that would make him late. The realisation that it had been a few nights since her little ones had returned from tooth collecting with at least one funny story about the Frost spirit's silly antics did nothing to ease her fears. Still, she had kept them to herself, convinced that she was just over-mothering the boy and that he would be fine. North's expression told a different story.

Sandy had floated closer to the big bearded man, a question mark also appearing above his head, encouraging North to tell the others what was bothering him.

"Eet is Jack." North paused briefly, unsure of how to proceed, "I think something is wrong. . . . I feel it, in my belly!" He finished, grabbing his round belly at the end and giving it a shake for emphasis, his face solemn and serious.

Before any of the Guardians could react, a distinct fluttering sound was heard from across the room. All eyes turned in the direction of the sound and they were met with the sight of a man, dressed in a suit and tie with a beige trench coat stood staring at them with intense blue eyes.

Bunny reached for his boomerangs, grasping them firmly in his hand at the sight of the stranger. Tooth and North both tensed slightly, whereas Sandy merely gave a half smile, a knowing expression on his face as he made a guess at who, or what was standing before them.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" North asked in his thick Russian accent. The man before them continued his long gaze, seeming unfazed or unsurprised by the question.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." He said, in a deep gravelly voice. Sandy nodded his head with a smile while the other Guardians relaxed slightly; the two groups had little to do with each other and therefore neither caused each other any trouble. The angel rounded the table he was stood behind, bringing him closer to the Guardians. "I have come to ask you something."

"What is it?" Tooth asked, curious as to what would bring an angel to their doorstep.

"Is Jack Frost a Guardian of Childhood?" He questioned, his voice and gaze both quite intense.

"Jack? Of course!" North boomed, gesturing his arms wildly as he did.

Bunny still looked concerned, curious as to why an angel was asking questions about the newest guardian. "Why do you ask?"

The angel glanced over at Bunny, his face showing hints of sorrow mixed with concern. "I was in Burgess with two hunters when we came across rumours of Jack. We talked to the children; they said Jack was attacked by nightmares on Saturday night. None of them have seen him since."

The Guardians all looked at each other with a mixture of shock and sadness. They were all speechless. Was he injured? Taken? None would allow themselves to entertain the notion of the worst case scenario.

"We have to help!" North exclaimed once he had regained his voice. "We will help find Jack!"

"Wait a minute mate," Bunny began, but he was interrupted by both North and Tooth protesting his statement. "Hey! Listen to me! He said he was in town with hunters, why were they there in the first place? We can't just rush off without knowing what is going on here!"

Both North and Tooth stopped, realising Bunny was right and once again all heads turned to the angel behind them, indicating for him to answer Bunny's question.

"Demons." Castiel said flatly.

"Demons?" Tooth repeated hesitantly, "Did you find them?"

"They seem to be working with the nightmares."

"What?!" Bunny questioned. Sandy made a symbol of Pitch above his head along with a question mark.

"Could it be Pitch?" Tooth thought aloud.

"It could be. Demons have no business interfering with immortals; they'd only get involved if a deal was made." Cas explained.

"Someone would have to make deal." North concluded with a sigh. "We must go! If Pitch has Jack, there is no telling what he could do to the boy."

"Is there some place in Burgess you know off that we could meet?" Cas asked, knowing that if he dropped the four immortals in front of him on Sam and Dean they would not be pleased.

Sandy immediately symboled a lake above his head. North translated for the angel, "Jack's lake? That would be best, good thinking Sandy!" He praised before turning to Cas, "Is in woods."

The angel simply nodded in response before disappearing with the same fluttering sound he arrived with.

The guardians all jumped into action, North declaring that they get to the sleigh, with Bunny's only sign of annoyance at the man's plan of action being some quiet grumbles. They moved through the workshop, North informing the yetis of what was happening and to get the sleigh ready, while Tooth sent word via the few fairies she had accompanying her to let the rest of her little ones know Jack was in trouble. Once they arrived at the garage of the workshop they stopped as they waited for the sleigh to be brought out.

"How could Pitch be back so soon?" Bunny asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure.

North sighed and shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, "I do not know, but he is."

* * *

Jack breathed heavily, his head lolling slightly due to his exhaustion, the lashes of the whip not only having cut into his back, but drained him of his energy as more blood was spilled. The top of his brown trousers were soaked through with the blood that had poured from his back, with his hoodie having been ripped off him by Pitch somewhere around the 20th hit, the Bogeyman having proclaimed viciously how it was 'getting in his way.'

Jack fidgeted in his chains, attempting to find a position where his muscles were not quite so strained, but it was to no avail. He remained as uncomfortable as ever while Pitch moved about the room doing God knows what.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack mumbled once Pitch had moved to leer over him once more.

Pitch merely chuckled, "You know why Jack. You chose the wrong path. You interfered with no right to do so. You deserve this." He replied in a voice that was smooth as velvet but somehow more frightening than if he had shouted.

Pitch turned to leave the room. He had struck the boy a total of forty times and was more than pleased with himself at the sheen of blood that now coated Jack's back, with some areas where the strikes had overlapped repeatedly showing fractions of white bone. Even still, he had only managed a groan or a whimper out of the spirit. Like with all immortals, the cuts would heal quicker than with a human, but the black sand residue left from the whip along with Jack being powerless meant the process was going to be slightly slower, and more painful. Just as he was about to leave, Jack spoke again, although surprisingly this time it was in a stronger, more determined voice; one the Bogeyman did not think the young spirit would have the courage to make considering the pain he was obviously in.

"You're wrong."

Pitch merely sneered, disregarding his comment before leaving the youngest guardian to his injuries.

* * *

**A/N: I feel mean. Reviews are hugs for Jack! Let me know what yous thought and thanks for reading! :D**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for coming back! Thank you also to the lovely reviewiers from the last chapter: **AlexatheNerd, Tala White 14, Guest **and **MysteryGirl7Freak! **Seriously guys, yous are all class! It's so great to hear your thoughts on the story! Big Thank You as well to everyone who has added this to their favourites and alerts, always makes me smile to get those e-mails.**

**This chapter had to be split in two or it would have been way too long for my liking, I'll work away at the next part and should hopefully have it up shortly! :D Advanced warning though, it is proving really difficult to write, but I'll do my best!**

****Oh and **_**Nightmares**_** are in **_**Italics**_**, just to stop any confusion :)****

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Jack watched Pitch glide out the door of the room, his eyes never leaving the Nightmare King until the door was once again shut. Jack hung his head with a sigh. The pain he felt in his back was torturous. A few areas, mainly the middle of his back and at the top near his right shoulder were particularly painful where he remembered having had received multiple strikes. He craned his neck around to try and see over his right shoulder to gain some sort of knowledge of the state of his back. His pale skin was covered in his own blood from the array of cuts he had received with darker and deeper marks where he had suspected them.

"Gah!" He gasped in shock, immensely relieved it was on his back and therefore he could not see the full extent of the damage. He had noticed something worrying, well, besides the obvious; there were some streaks of black sand lining some of the gashes on his back, presumably residue from the whip. He grimaced, unsure of what that was going to mean for him in terms of recovery.

He tried pulling at his chains again, attempting to attend to some sort of task to try and keep his mind off the pain he was in. It wasn't that Jack was any stranger to pain, on the contrary, learning to fly had took him a considerable amount of time and a lot of falling off or flying into things. This time however, he didn't have his ice to help numb his injuries and keep his body cool as it worked itself on the healing process. The little strength he was able to muster made no improvements in loosening his hands. He growled in frustration as he fought with them, wishing beyond anything that they would just magically fall off. It was not long before he gave up on them for now, resolving to try them again once his body felt stronger.

He could already feel the small prickles that signalled the start of his recovery. The blood had stopped flowing out of him, a few trickles still leaking out of the worst of the marks. Jack felt himself getting tired. The adrenaline of his situation had left him, this combined with the blood loss he had suffered and the fact he had resisted rest since his capture left Jack feeling exhausted. Still, he fought sleep, more than aware what was most likely to happen if he fell asleep while under the care of the King of Nightmares himself. However, his body cared little for what could happen to his mind; every cell in his being crying out for the escape of sleep and the chance to escape the pain he was in. The injuries he had sustained became dulled as Jack was brought into a dazed state as his eyes led his mind to rest, and Jack was hopeless to resist. Before long, the young boy had dropped off to sleep, head dropping onto his chest as his body went limp.

The instant the head of the young guardian had fallen limp, nightmares began to creep towards him from the shadowed walls of the room. The horse-like beasts approached the spirit, sniffing loudly as they determined what the boy before them feared. Unanimously reaching a decision, their bright eyes met before they took form of a nightmare specifically designed for Jack Frost.

_Jack whooped in glee as the wind carried him through the air. He was heading to Burgess to surprise Jamie just as he was coming out of school and time wise, he was cutting it fine. As if having read his mind, the wind spurred him on, allowing the young spirit to go faster. _

_It was because of the increased speed that Jack made it to Burgess in time, arriving at the school just as the bell rang announcing the end of another day. Jack perched on his upright staff, knowing how Jamie loved to marvel at Jack's show of perfect balance. _

_Jamie emerged from the doors of the building surrounded by his usual group of friends. He cast no glance in Jack's direction so the spirit formed a snowball in his hand, throwing it with perfect aim at his friend. Once it made contact, instead of turning around and greeting Jack with a smile, he had a frown on his face, raising a hand to angrily dust the wet snow from his hair. He turned his head and continued walking down the path on his way home. It was as if he didn't -Oh no. Jack thought. Not this. Not Jamie._

_Without further ado, Jack flew over to the boy, landing beside him and matching his stride. _

_"Hey Jamie! Who hit you?" Claude questioned his friend. _

_"I dunno, I didn't see," Jamie replied, annoyance evident in his voice._

_"Jamie!" Jack called to no response, "Jamie, it was me! I'm right here!" _

_"Must've been Jack Frost nipping at your nose!" Pippa teased, nudging Jamie as she did so._

_"Pippa! You know there's no such thing as Jack Frost!" Jamie said, laughing at her phrase._

_Jack stopped as he felt the sharp pain of lost believers hit his core._

_"I know, but it's just a figure of speech!" Pippa laughed in response as the children continued their conversation as they carried on down the street. Jack zoned out, and could only watch as they left. Before he could hear much more, he felt the wind lift him away from the children, taking him to his lake. _

_Once at his lake, Jack collapsed in the middle. He curls himself into a ball, clutching his staff close to his chest as a source of comfort. He hadn't adopted such a position since he had gained his first few believers, but now, in the aftermath of losing those believers, he found himself once again crippled with grief. He felt the first few tears fall from behind closed eyes. As they hit the ice below him, his surroundings rapidly darkened, and out of nowhere his fellow Guardians appeared. _

_"Guys?" He greeted, hope and relief tainting his voice as he looked to his friends for comfort._

_"Jack." North said simply, his voice sounding odd without it's usual boisterous tone. Jack looked towards him as he stood. The guardian of wonder was usually very easy to read, as he wore his emotions so openly on his face. This time, however, the man's face was blank, offering no comfort or reassurance to the spirit before him. Jack looked to the other Guardians, searching for some sign that someone else realised how odd North was acting. He found no trace of the usual friendliness from any of the other Guardians; Bunny and Tooth greeted him with expressions that were hard and cold and Sandy was not even able to look at him._

_"Guys?" He repeated, his voice thick with fear this time, "What's wrong?"_

_"How could you lose your believers Jack?" Tooth questioned, sounding betrayed. _

_Sandy symboled North's globe, with the one last light that had been Jamie shining brightly, but then disappearing._

_"Not even the last light can believe in you Frostbite!" Bunny snapped._

_"You lost us that light Jack!" North accused angrily, folding his arms across his chest._

_"I -I..." Jack stammered. For once he was speechless; shocked into silence._

_"You have no believers Jack. You cannot be Guardian." North continued, disappointment wracking his voice. _

_"Wh- What?" Jack began in disbelief, "North!" He called as the man he thought of as a father turned his back on him. "No please! Wait!" The other Guardians were all leaving him alone too. As Jack looked around his empty lake, the full extent of all he had lost hit him; he was back to being a nobody, except now he had felt what it was like to be a somebody, making his returning isolation seem so much worse. Not even the wind could offer up any support._

_More tears fell from his eyes as Jack fell to his knees, as he did so his heart shattering. Once impact was made, the ice underneath cracked and came apart under him, and Jack was plunged into the icy depths below._

Jack awoke with a loud gasp, eyes shooting open as he brought himself from the grips of the nightmare, gulping in breath as he did so in an attempt to calm and reassure himself that everything he had just seen was not real.

The pains from his back returned forcefully, his healing now having reached the stage where it was beginning to get a little uncomfortable, the sensation reminiscent of stinging bees on his tender skin as dead cells were removed, damaged cells repaired, and new cells generated. He noticed with a small jolt of surprise that there were tears on his face which must've fallen while he was asleep. Jack closed his eyes as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him; his nerves already feeling frayed as a result of the physical and now psychological tortures he had endured.

Suddenly he heard a chuckle come from the shadows around him. He immediately smoothed his facial expression, refusing to let anyone, especially the Bogeyman, see him in such a state.

"Oh Jack!" He called in a falsely sympathetic tone as he emerged from this shadows. "I tried to protect you from this. I always said they would leave you."

"It was just a stupid nightmare Pitch!" Jack retorted, "it means nothing."

"It was more than a nightmare Jack. It was a vision of things to come!" The young guardian offered no response so Pitch continued, "a child's belief is whimsical - it goes as easy as it comes. And once you lose your believers, you will be nothing again!"

"Stop it!" Jack cried out heatedly, wanting nothing more than for Pitch to shut up. "It won't happen!" He continued, sounding slightly like he was trying to convince himself.

"But fear." Pitch continued, completely ignoring Jack's protests as he rambled on. "Fear is not so easy extinguished. Childhood fears last well into adulthood. That is why I'm going to win. And there is nothing you can do to stop me!"

* * *

The two Winchester's entered their rented out motel room both lost within their own thoughts over their current case. Cas had yet to return from wherever it was he had got off to during dinner and since then the brother's had been brainstorming ideas of what the angel was doing and what their next move was to be. They could honestly say they were stuck on this case; all the evidence pointed to legends and folktale characters being the victims and adversary's. For now, however, that was the only lead they had, and Cas certainly thought it was feasible.

"Dean, there's something Jamie said." Sam began, "He mentioned Jack was supposedly took out by 'his lake?' D'you reckon we should try there?"

Dean grimaced thoughtfully, nodding his head in agreement. "Good thinking, we'll head there." He paused for a minute, "Wonder where Cas is."

Sam was never given the opportunity to discuss it further as the angel in question fluttered into the room, appearing directly behind Dean, who then jumped back in surprise at his friend's sudden close proximity.

"Cas! Where the hell have you been?!" Dean questioned.

Cas looked to each Winchester brother, having already decided to not tell his two friends of the Guardians' arrival until they were more prepared to believe. "That is unimportant."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes narrowed at the angel and Dean chose to look affronted at Cas' secrecy. Since he had rebelled, it had been very rare for Cas to keep anything from the brothers but they decided to let it go for the moment, trusting the angel would tell them eventually. "Ok well, we were just saying. That kid Jamie mentioned that Jack was attacked out by his lake? We were just about to head out there now, you coming?"

Cas inwardly cringed; the Guardians would be arriving at the lake very shortly and at this rate, they'd be walking right into the two Winchester's. "That won't be necessary." He replied rather lamely, silently cursing how he was so terrible at lying.

"Won't be necessary?" Sam questioned, "Cas? What's going on with you? If the kid was took there, we'd kinda need to check it out." He continued, stating the obvious.

"Very well." He replied hesitantly.

"No wait man. Answer him, what's going on?" Dean pressed, knowing for sure that whatever secrets Cas was hiding were interfering with the case. "I mean, first you disappear without word of where you're going and then you basically tell us to stay out of the case?"

Cas glared quietly at Dean; he hadn't wanted to have this conversation for a while but resigning himself to the fact that it was going to have to happen sometime.

"I was meeting with the other Guardians." He replied simply.

"The other Guardians?" Sam repeated, a hint of awe evident in his voice. "You mean like the Sandman and all?"

Cas nodded in agreement, "Yes. They needed to know, Jack is one of them; this is an attack against the group."

"What did they say?" Dean pressed. Despite his unwillingness to believe in such myths, the case was still intriguing.

"They are furious at Pitch for trying something like this. However, they also seemed surprised. Something must have happened in the last year or two with Black when Jack would have been initiated into the group." He paused for a moment, reading the Winchester's expressions in response to his explanation. "They are coming here."

"What?!" Dean exclaimed loudly as Sam merely sat looking flabbergasted at the angel's revelation. Hearing stories about legendary characters was one thing, actually having said legendary characters come and rub their noses in everything was an entirely different story.

"They are perfectly entitled to run their own investigations Dean." Cas defended.

Both brothers reluctantly calmed at that, knowing that if one of their own was attacked or captured, they would want to look into it. "What did they say?" Sam questioned quietly.

"They agree that Pitch must be working with demons, from what I can tell, he was left severely weakened from his last battle with the five and should not have regained enough power to attack Jack for at least another century."

Sam and Dean nodded in understanding. "Ok, so are we meeting them?" Sam questioned.

"I am due to meet with them shortly at Jack's lake." Cas hesitated slightly before continuing, gaze flicking between both men. "I don't think it would be wise for you two to accompany me."

"Why?" Sam challenged, "Shouldn't we hear what they have to say?"

"Yeah, and it would be nice to get some proof these things are actually real." Dean agreed, shadowing his brother's argument.

"That's the thing Dean, you can't just _get _proof; you have to believe in the existence of the Guardians before you can perceive them. I will tell you what they have said." Cas placated.

"Cas, come on. Is there no way you can, I dunno, make us believe." Sam pleaded, not willing to miss out a chance to meet the characters from his childhood if they were actually real; these were the good monsters, the ones he had believed in for a long time, even when his brother had chosen to ignore them. Stories they may have been, but it was the good stories like those of angels, Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy that kept Sam as innocent as possible in the darkest of situations. But even aside from these legends, there was none that Sam believed in more than the Sandman, his desire for the little being to exist encouraging his belief in every good creature; the Sandman brought good dreams, he protected children from the things that go bump in the night that used to have Sam so afraid would get him or his brother. Sam remembered a time he had thought the Sandman was an angel that came in the night, that theory having kept with him until his belief in the little man was distinguished.

Cas bowed his head, knowing of a way to make such a thing more possible but it would be difficult for him to achieve. "There is a way, but it will only broaden your minds, make you more ready to believe, but that final leap of faith will have to be made by you and you alone," he said to each of the brothers. "Otherwise they will still remain invisible."

"Ok, lets try it." Sam said, his voice optimistic. Dean, although less eagerly, also nodded in response.

"I do have to warn you-" Cas began.

"What is it?" Dean interrupted.

"Influencing the belief of a mortal is difficult even with the powers of heaven at my disposal; that's why we encourage faith." He explained in response.

"And you're cut off." Sam finished in understanding, "Can you try it anyway?" He continued after a moments thought, knowing that any help with believing would be needed, especially for Dean.

"I can, just so long as you know it may not work." He explained. Without further ado he moved closer to both the brothers and placed his hands on the top of each of their heads. At his touch, a strong, bright light shone, beaming through their closed eyelids and the faces of both men as the angel crunched his eyes in concentration.

**A/N: Let me know what you all thought! I'll be back soon (hopefully) with more but for now, thanks for reading! :D**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Back again! :D Huge Thank You to all who have followed and favourited since the last chapter, I'm glad yous are enjoying the story and a special thank you goes out to **Tala White 14, AlexatheNerd **and **MysteryGirl7Freak **for reviewing! :D I literally run on feedback so thank you all! :D**

**This chapter is really long (I hope you's don't mind) but I am quite happy with the outcome. Jack gets a break in this one and the Sandman gets busy so **_**dreams **_**are in **_**italics.**_** Expect fluff people! **

**Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly not :( I'll just pretend for a while ;)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam, Dean and Castiel all crept smoothly through the undergrowth of the forest outside of Burgess. The night had quickly approached after their dinner due to the short winter days and it was slightly difficult to see much in the wooded area so the two brothers had whipped out their flashlights.

They were headed in the general direction of Jack's lake. From Jamie's description, it was relatively well known to the area and therefore couldn't have been too deep into the woods or too hard to find from the main road where the Impala was parked. They had left pretty much immediately after Cas had worked his mojo on the two Winchesters, the only way to see if it had any effect being to test it.

The crew was silent during their journey, each Winchester brother slightly nervous about the meeting and currently unwilling to talk about anything as they mulled over what was going to happen and Cas, being the angel that he is, just didn't talk much in general.

It did not take long, however, for the group to spot a parting in the trees that led to a clearing. Once they got a proper view through the gaps in the branches, they saw it was indeed the lake of Jack Frost, which was frozen solid, unsurprising when one knew just who it was that called this place home.

One thing that was amiss was the absence of any Guardians, and for a moment Sam's heart jolted at the fear that they would still be unable to see the group.

"Is-? Are-?" He stammered, struggling to find the words to ask the angel if the Guardians were there.

"They're not here." Cas interrupted, knowing what Sam was about to ask. "Yet."

The trio made their way down to the shore of the lake, Cas keeping his expression blank while his two friends fidgeted beside him, glancing around them constantly as their eyes searched for any sign of movement in the darkened night. He allowed himself a small smile; he had gotten so used to seeing the Winchester's go up against many a horrific creature without batting an eyelid, he found it strange how they were so on edge going to meet _Guardians_ of _Childhood: _a group that was in no way threatening. He supposed it was going to be difficult for them, they were both realists and now they were being asked to put that realism aside to deal with creatures they thought were fairytales.

Cas was brought from his silent musings by the feel of a tug on his awareness. A portal must be about to open somewhere close by. "They're coming." He announced, directing his gaze toward the night sky. Sam and Dean jumped slightly at his declaration, eyes following his upwards, neither brother entirely sure just what they were looking for.

With a burst, the portal opened and from it came a sleigh pulled by four reindeer. The sleigh turned to head down towards the lake as Cas watched the reactions of the brothers.

"Oh my God." Sam gasped, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as he watched the sleigh's descent towards the lake.

"What?!" Dean questioned angrily.

"You don't see?" Sam questioned, ripping his gaze from the glorious sight and turning towards his brother.

"See what? Sam! There's nothing there!" He cried out defensively.

"They're here Dean! Look!" Sam replied, pointing towards the sleigh eagerly, looking all too like a young child showing their mother something they found miraculous.

Although Dean's gaze followed to where his brother was pointing, he showed no signs of recognition, nor that he saw anything there at all.

"I can't see." He said, sounding oddly deflated as he was met with disappointment that he could not see who was approaching.

"Dean, try and focus, try and believe." Cas called just as the sleigh hit the hardened ice with a stop.

Sam's attention was completely overcome by the sight of the strange group of beings emerging from what had to be Santa Claus' sleigh. He was left speechless as a bunny, the height of himself with grey fur and boomerang's hopped down from the sleigh, looking a little shaken from the journey. The Easter Bunny.

Following him two creatures came into full view at the same time, and both were, if possible, even stranger. One resembled a woman, but at the same time, looked like an overgrown hummingbird. She had feather's covering her body and had wings which were beating rapidly as they lifted her from the sleigh, yet her facial features were that of a beautiful woman. The Tooth Fairy.

Next to her and also floating was a small man. Not very strange, true, except this man was golden. He looked to be made from sand, except it was the brightest, most intricate sand Sam had ever seen, the man looked at him with kind eyes and gave him a small nod and a smile. The Sandman.

Last to leave the sleigh was a very large man, who, once he had reached his full height he towered over them all. He wore a black Russian cap, a long red coat with black fur and two tattoos on each arm; one 'naughty,' the other 'nice.' He had a long white beard that went right down to his waist and had kind, startlingly blue eyes. Santa Clause.

Sam sucked in a deep breath, half wondering just how he was still standing and conscious at this stage, his brain being temporarily frozen in shock.

"'E can see us?" The big bearded man questioned once he had read Sam's expression. The others just watched and waited to see what was going to happen. They had only expected Castiel to be here, the two human adults on either side were both somewhat a surprise.

"Yes, these are the Winchester's; Sa-"

"Ah yes!" North boomed, "Sam and Dean, no?" Noticing Dean's blank expression as he gazed at the three, he continued, "'E does not believe?"

"No." Cas replied simply. Turning to the still starstruck younger Winchester brother, he continued, "Sam, this is North, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy." He informed, trying to get some sort of response out of his friend.

"Hi." He replied, eyes still wide in shock.

"Apologies, we were unsure whether either of them were going to believe." Cas explained.

"Ooh," Tooth began in a motherly voice in response to Sam's surprise, "It's ok!" She continued, shooting over to Sam's side, causing the Winchester to jump back, "We're not that different from anyone else." She said in a kind voice.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on here?!" Dean called out angrily, disturbed at seeing his brother jump in fright from something that was not there.

"Cool it mate." Bunny said in response, but of course, it fell on deaf ears.

"Dean and Sam are the hunter's I had mentioned before. I opened their minds as best I could but they had to make the final leap of faith themselves. Sam was able to, Dean seems to have had some trouble." Cas explained to the Guardians.

Sandy raised his hand eagerly, bouncing slightly in the air with a wide smile on his face.

"Sandy! What is it?" North questioned, prompting the Guardian of Dreams to continue with whatever he wanted to say. The little golden man signed a string of pictures above his head, too quickly to allow anyone to keep up.

"Hold up little guy," Bunny began, "say it again, slower this time though."

He signed an adult sleeping and above their head appeared mini-sand figures of the Guardians.

"Give him dreams of us?" North asked to make sure that was what the little golden man had meant to say. Sandy nodded eagerly in agreement.

"That's a wonderful idea Sandy!" Tooth praised, shooting back over to stand beside the small man.

"Will it work? He is an adult after all?" Bunny questioned dubiously.

"If his mind is more accepting it should work, yes?" North replied, turning towards Cas for confirmation.

"It is worth a try." Cas replied.

Without further ado, Sandy sent a stream of golden sand towards Dean, it danced around his eyes as the elder Winchester began to get extremely tired.

"Sam!" He called out tiredly, his body was rapidly becoming lethargic. He began to panic, not knowing what was happening him as his energy slipped away from him. "Sam, what-?"

"Dean it's ok, you're just going to sleep." Sam said in a soothing voice.

"Sleep? What?!" He replied, his voice rising in panic.

"Dean, don't fight it." Cas instructed, "It's just the Sandman."

"How? Why?" He replied, his voice becoming weaker as he began to succumb to unconsciousness.

"Hit him with a bit more mate." Bunny advised, Sandy looked towards the oversized Bunny, nodding in agreement before sending another wave of golden sand towards Dean who, once hit with the sandman's magic, promptly fell to the forest floor, fast asleep.

The strange group stared silently at the Winchester brother as dreams began to form.

"Er guys?" Sam began, "This might not be the best place to let him sleep." He pointed out slightly timidly, still finding his voice after the introductions.

"Ah, you are right." North admitted, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"We could get him a blanket?" Tooth suggested.

"Not to worry. I'll get him." Cas replied, moving closer to Dean and crouching down beside him. "Sam, meet us at the motel with the car. We are staying at the Golden Arrow motel in town, room 7. I'll see you all there." He instructed as he placed two fingers on the forehead of the older Winchester brother before the two disappeared.

~FF~

It did not take Sam overly long to arrive at the motel room with the car, it had been more than a little awkward after the angel had left with his brother in tow; Sam had no clue as to what you say to a group of legends. Aside from that, he was still coming to grasp with the fact that, not only were they real, Santa's Russian, the Easter Bunny's Australian, the Tooth Fairy is a cross between human and hummingbird and the Sandman was just that; a man _literally_ made of sand. They had simply awkwardly agreed to split ways; the Guardians conducting a search for Jack, and Sam returning to the motel to keep watch on his brother.

He sighed, shaking his head as he still worked on coming to terms with how strange everything had gotten in the space of a day. He entered the motel room, and was greeted with the sight of his brother asleep on his bed and Cas sat at the table keeping a watchful eye on him. Once he entered the room, the angel gazed towards him, giving him a small nod of welcome, which Sam then returned before joining Cas at the table.

"Where are the others?" Cas questioned.

"They're doing an initial search of the area around the lake. If they find anything, they'll send word." He replied. "I wonder what he's dreaming." Sam mused aloud, gazing at his sleeping brother.

~FF~

Dean felt himself falling into a deep, peaceful sleep, his mind eagerly racing towards the oblivion that awaited. He rarely got any deep sleep, his senses always being too strung up, too sharp even at night to allow him such a reprieve. All too easy, he found himself falling into a dream.

_Dean looked around, gathering information about his surroundings. It was a familiar place, one he recognised as Bobby Singer's home, but it was much less cluttered than he remembered it at the minute. He heard a young child crying and instinctively followed the sound as it led him upstairs. The crying was coming from the main guest room, the one him and Sam used to share when they were younger. He rounded the corner to the room and was met with the sight of a younger version of himself and Sam. He looked to be around ten and Sam about six. The crying was coming mainly from Sam but heartbreak was evident in the face of his younger self too as he tried to remain strong for his little brother. _

_Dean remembered this. Sam had started asking questions about their father, why they were always moving around, why he wasn't with them, where he went; questions Dean had no answers for. Today, if Dean remembered correctly, was actually Sam's sixth birthday, and John had once again broken his promise that he would be there, and Sam had convinced himself he was unloved and unwanted. He watched, waiting. He knew how this played out, he had cheered Sam up and they had even managed to make it down to the kitchen to have some cake with Bobby. _

_As he watched, he noticed images appearing in the mirror. He could see a golden room, with rows of little small golden boxes which complimented the decor of their surroundings. He saw a little hummingbird-thing fly towards one box; one that had his childhood face pictured on the end of it. _

"_What?!" He questioned himself in confusion. His younger self showed no sign of seeing what was being shown in the mirror, and he had no memory of such a room or such delicate little boxes so he had to assume this sight was for his benefit only. The little bird pressed what looked like a hand onto the top of the box, causing it to emit a glowing light._

"_Hey Sam, d'you remember that time, about two years ago, that Dad came home early and played catch with us?" His younger self started just as the light was emitted from the box. "And then he took us to that awesome pizza place and we sat and played the whole day?" He looked down at his brother snugged up in his arms, and was met with only sniffles, the tears seemed to be slowing to a stop though._

"_And do you remember when he taught us how to climb that big old tree outside, and your clumsy ass nearly fell of the thing, Dad nearly had a fit!" He continued with a smile._

"_Dean!" Sam whined, a watery smile starting to appear on his face in spite of himself, "You nearly fell of it too! I was only copying you!" He continued with a small laugh as he defended his climbing skills._

"_Ok, ok, fair enough." Dean laughed in response. Sam giggled softly as his brother reminded him of more stories._

_The images on the mirror changed before his eyes, and a larger version of the small bird he had saw earlier appeared, only this one looked to be more half-human, half-hummingbird. She gave him a warm smile as Dean stared at the odd sight, "for when we have to be reminded of happier times."_

_Before he could fully appreciate that a feathered lady with wings was talking to him through a mirror, the scene shifted and reformed into a memory taking place a few years later. This time, Dean saw his younger version sat at the table of some motel room somewhere in America. Sam was watching TV while Dean stared frustratingly down at the page in front of him. Dean came closer to the younger version of himself, peering over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. "My Mother" was written in big, colourful letters at the top of the page. Dean remembered this, it was soon Mother's Day and he had been given a homework in which he had to proudly say how great his mother was. His father would usually have him off school around this dreaded day but he had had a rough hunt the previous week, something had happened the Harvelle man that was his Dad's friend and the man had been unable to leave the bottle ever since he had returned. In his stupor, he had forgot the time of year and had angrily sent his son off to school, and now, Dean had this stupid homework to put up with over the weekend. _

_Dean watched as his younger self called Sam to get ready for bed and go to sleep, and after giving the innocent looking sheet of paper on the table one last glare, the young Dean left for bed himself. Time moved swiftly in his dream until Dean could see his younger self drop into a deep sleep. This time, however, he watched as streams of golden sand filtered in through the closed window. _

_"What the?" He questioned in bewilderment, striding over to get a closer look at the sand. The streams crept up to him and his brother as they slept and started forming pictures above their heads. Dean watched as forms of two boys, looking a lot like him and his brother when they were young, playing games outside appeared above Sam's head. A smile came to his face at the sight as he watched his little brother happily sleep. He looked back over at his own sleeping form and watched as different images began to form above his younger head. The first was of a woman, the silhouette of the little golden figure reminding him of his Mom, giving a little boy a kiss on the cheek and a hug after a fall. The characters then changed slightly and the same woman seemed to be handing the little boy a pie, to which the smaller figure jumped and danced around the room. A scene of the young boy, the woman, who now held another, smaller form in her arms, which she bounced gently as if she was soothing him appeared. Music notes along with the words "Hey Jude" written in cursive appeared from both the woman and the small boy as they sang to the baby._

_Dean felt his eyes tear up a little as the scene quickened again, and he was shown himself at breakfast eagerly finishing his homework, describing all the wonderful things his mother had done for him to show him he was loved. _

_The TV set in the room buzzed to life, and when it cleared, there was an image of a short man made of golden sand which looked incredibly alike the substance which made up the golden figures Dean had seen above him and his brother's heads the previous night. The little man smiled and waved, the words "sweet dreams" appearing in the same sandy substance he was made of above his head._

_The scene changed once again and was this time shown to a cosy sitting room which he couldn't remember having been in before. There was a large, perfectly decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room and beside said Christmas tree was-_

_"Oh you gotta be kidding me!" Dean muttered to himself. Putting presents into the stockings by the tree was none other than Santa Claus himself. "This is some sort of joke." The big man finished filling the stockings and placed two underneath the tree. He then went to open the window slightly, despite the cold air outside and went to hide behind the big Christmas tree. _

_Within a few minutes, Dean watched as a teenaged version of himself snuck in through the slightly open window. The current memory hit him like a brick wall; this was the Christmas Sam had found out about hunting and he had wanted to make the boy feel better about everything by giving him a good Christmas. Except they had only had enough money for food and their Dad was late coming back from his hunt. _

_Dean stood out of the teenagers way as he stealthily crossed the room, spotting the bulging stockings and grabbing two random presents from the piles. Dean got distracted from the sight of his younger self as he left by the sound of a quiet Russian curse coming from behind the tree. The bearded man had hit his forehead with his palm in exasperation at the actions of the teenaged Dean. Dean furrowed his eyebrows, looking again around the room. Now he was closer, he spotted the names on the only two presents old Saint Nick had left under the tree; 'Sam' and 'Dean.'_

_Dean's mouth opened slightly in confusion, before hearing a voice with a strong Russian accent speaking behind him._

_"Because you needed to believe Christmas was yours to make special for your brother. The best present I could give you was seeing him smile, and knowing you made that smile happen."_

_Dean rose his gaze to meet that of the man of legend, who looked right at him as he spoke, kind eyes twinkling with happy emotions._

_Yet again, the scene shifted. Dean was met with the sight of his old house. He was stood in the entrance hallway just behind his father, who was holding a baby Sam. A young boy of four that Dean recognised as himself was clutched to John's leg, hesitant to move too far away from his father. _

"_Ok boys, we're just going to see can we pick up a few things and then we'll go and get some ice-cream or something, ok?" John said, attempting to be strong for his children but Dean could detect the tremble in his voice and the tear in his eye. So, this was just after the fire._

_The young family walked slowly up the stairs, taking their time as they braced themselves for the sight they were sure to be met with as they came to the first floor, and were greeted with the sight of what once was the nursery. Dean and John looked into the charred and blackened room with teary eyes, both completely frozen in terror at the sight of what had been the baby's room, while Sam merely gurgled and talked to himself in John's arms. Dean followed his younger self and his family up the stairs grudgingly. Tears sparked in his eyes as he saw the despair written across his father's and his younger self's face. He remembered this day. His mother was gone and she wasn't coming back, and with her went all the hope and happiness that was in his life. Initially, his father had just drawn into himself, not looking at either him or Sam. But, after seeing Missouri, he had been paying them some better attention, and had even picked up the courage to come back here so the family could see what remained of their possessions._

"_Dean." John said around the lump in his throat. "Go to your room, fill your bag with some clothes and toys, ok?" _

"_Ok Daddy." The little boy replied in a small voice. John tore himself from the sight of the nursery, taking Sam with him to what used to be his and Mary's old bedroom._

_Dean followed his younger self to his old bedroom, watching with a broken heart as the small boy before him stood awkwardly in the room, tears beginning to fall as he looked at all he once had. John had explained to him before coming that they could not stay here; this was to be the last time they were in the house and anything they wanted to keep was to be took with them. Dean remembered how traumatic this time was for him. It had seemed like his world was crumbling around him; he had lost his mother, and now he was losing the only home he had ever known._

_As he looked, Dean spotted a colourfully wrapped little egg shaped sweet nestled just at the corner of the door. He bent down to pick it up, and as he did, another sweet caught his eye. It was hidden just outside the door to the nursery. Once again, Dean left his room to pick it up. Older Dean followed him out the door, watching with fondness as he knew what was about to happen. _

_Another sweet was placed in the room, the foil of the wrapper shining brightly against the blackened carpet. Dean once again picked it up, entering the room without hesitation as his mind was overtook with curiosity. There was a trail of sweets leading up to a small pile beside the wall of the room. Dean made his way over to the pile, convinced his Dad wanted to show him something but for whatever reason, wanted Dean to be the one to find it. _

_Dean picked up the first item on top of the charred and broken pile. It was the angel his Mom had placed on the shelf above the crib. Dean watched as his younger self made the discovery, remembering the thoughts and feelings that raced through him at the sight of the little ceramic figure. "Angels are watching over you," his mother had said. His young mind came to an innocent conclusion; angels were still watching over him, despite the fire, despite the challenges he was facing, there was hope, because now his mother was one of those angels. Wherever he went, she would be, and wherever she was, was home._

_The little boy ran out of the room, bringing the little figurine with him. Dean watched as he left, knowing that what had just happened had been a huge step for the child. As he watched himself leave, Dean saw an oversized Bunny stood at the entrance to the room._

_"So there will always be hope." The giant furry creature said with a smile in an accent that sounded strangely Australian. Dean could only stare at the sight, completely bewildered at the sight of a six foot, talking, Australian Rabbit. _

_As his surroundings faded into nothingness once again, he thought about the dream he was currently having. A fairy, a man made of sand, Santa Claus, a bunny that handed out sweets; it would seem the case he was working on was really taking a toll on his mind. _

_The scene formed into one of the lake he remembered visiting. It was brighter now, and it looked like there were more trees than he recalled surrounding the patch of frozen water. This couldn't be one of his memories, he had only been here once and it was at nighttime. _

_"Jack!" A girl called out behind him. She sounded scared, and Dean whipped round to see what was happening. Much like the ice under him, he froze upon the sight; the ice was cracking underneath the ice skates of the little girl. She was looking to who had to be her older brother with wide, terrified eyes as she waited for him to think of some sort of plan. _

"_I'm scared!" She continued, fear evident in the tremble of her voice._

_"I know, I know. But you're gonna be alright. You're not gonna fall in." He reassured. "We're gonna have a little fun instead!" _

_Dean made his way over to the girl, realising with relief that he had no effect on the ice below. He grabbed for her, but his hand went right through._

_"No!" He tried again, and again as the young girl accused her brother of playing tricks, to which he denied with a laugh._

_"I promise, you're gonna be fine. You have to believe in me." Once his sister had nodded, eyes wide and trusting that her brother would get her safe, he continued. "You wanna play a game?" The boy, who Dean gathered was called Jack, called out. Dean began to step back, accepting he was not able to help but unable to take his eyes away from the scene. "We're gonna play hopscotch, like we play every day!" The boy announced. "It's as easy as one," the boy hesitated slightly in fear as the ice began to also crack under his placed foot. Before his younger sister could read his expression, he acted unbalanced and pretended to nearly fall, hearing her laugh in spite of herself in reward. _

_"Two, three!" He counted as he hopped lightly on his bare feet to thicker ice. "Alright, now it's your turn." He said as he bent down to pick a long piece of wood from the ground. "One." He encouraged, watching as his sister tried moving, her nerves along with the skates making her movements look slightly awkward. She gasped in fear as she saw more cracks appear in the ice. _

_"That's it, that's it!" Jack repeated to calm her a little._

_"Oh my God." Dean mumbled as he watched the scene play out. _

_"Two," He reached the curved end of the staff towards her frightened form as the ice became weaker with every movement she made. "Three!" He hooked her around the waist and threw her towards the thicker ice, the momentum needed from the manoeuvre lurching him forwards toward the thin ice. _

_"Kid!" Dean called, seeing that the boy was completely unaware of the danger he was in as he looked to see his little sister. "Hey! Look out!" He called as he moved toward the boy. Jack smiled and let out a small laugh, pleased that he had got his sister to safety. As he began to move towards her, the ice underneath finally gave way, and he was plunged underneath._

_"Jack!"_

_"No!" _

_Their cries were simultaneous as they watched the teenager fall below the ice._

_Dean slid down beside the hole, eyes searching for some sight of the boy, even though he knew he could do nothing. The place began to darken, the girl faded away and a thin layer of ice was formed over the hole Jack had fallen through._

_"No." He said in a smaller voice. He didn't know why he would dream up such a scene, but the boy was a hero. He had given his life for his little sister; Dean found it easy to relate, that protective, older brother mindset having been with Dean for as long as he could remember. _

_The newly formed ice began to crack. As it cracked further, it began to rise slightly. Dean stepped back in shock as the boy from earlier emerged from the ice. His hair was now white, his eyes blue and his skin pale as snow. He still wore the same strange clothes only now they were laced slightly with ice. He rose further into the air, gasping slightly as he became upright and lowered back onto the ice. He looked up to the moon, which sat proudly in the sky, watching down on the scene._

_"You will be called Jack Frost." A disembodied voice spoke. It was silent, like a whisper on the wind. The teenager gave a small smile in response, his gaze never leaving the bright moon. _

_His surroundings once again faded away, only this time, nothing reappeared in its place as Dean felt himself being called back to consciousness._

**A/N: If you made it this far, well done! Check back soon to see if the dreamsand has done it's trick and if you're feeling **_**really**_** generous, please pop me a wee review! Please, please, please! Thanks for reading! **


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry everyone for the slightly longer wait! Things just kept on cropping up. Super Thank You to **Tala White 14**,** egal**,** No one important (who actually is important cause that was a sweet review) **and** MysteryGirl7Freak **for reviewing! Thanks as well to everyone who added this story to either their favourites or follows list since the last chapter! Each bit of feedback is such an encouragement so Thank You!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine (I know, it's so sad) :(**

**Happy reading! :)**

* * *

Pitch paced through the dilapidated warehouse, a slight spring to his step. He stood tall, powerful and arrogant as he moved through the dark halls of the old building, humming a quiet tune to himself. His plans had come together perfectly. He had frequently peeked in to see Jack, remaining hidden in the shadows from the young Guardian, and had became increasingly pleased as he saw the boy squirming and grimacing in pain as his body fought to recover. He must be in _agony_, he had thought, and truly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

As he made his way to the old office shared by him and the demon, he was approached by one of his nightmares.

"My dear, what is it?" He asked, seeing her rushing towards him and sensing the panic radiating from her. He looked into her bright eyes, reading the thoughts and emotions that played there as she whinnied to him. "The Guardians?" He questioned for confirmation, "Fear not, they were going to come sometime." He soothed, it was time to put the next stages of his plan into action. He grimaced internally, he had hoped to have a bit longer with Frost before he had to face down the Guardians, but no matter.

He strode into the large office, Crowley had not moved from his seat behind the big table, and he was currently in discussion with another demon sat opposite him. They both looked up as the Nightmare King entered.

"The Guardians have arrived in Burgess." Pitch announced.

"Hmm," He replied, his annoyance clear in his expression. "The Winchesters, they're a pair of hunter's, have also hit the town, we've gained more attention than I had expected." Crowley mused in response. "How's Frost?" He questioned.

"Hurting." The other demon replied before Pitch could get a word in. Crowley looked to him, raising an eyebrow at the Bogeyman as he pressed him for more information.

"Defiant." Pitch drawled, "I had expected more time, but no matter," He stated as he crossed the room and took Jack's staff in his hands. "The loss of something so dear can be heart-shattering. It will not break the boy, but would bring a serious blow to his arrogance. Then, he is all yours." He continued, leaving Crowley guessing as to what exactly he was planning on doing.

"Well then, get on with it." Crowley snarled. He knew there would be no point in him speaking with the spirit while he was still so sure of himself, and besides, they had agreed that breaking Jack down would be Pitch's role, as this was what he had waited for.

"Very well." He replied before creeping away once again.

* * *

Baby Tooth shot through the sky, becoming nothing more than a colourful blur to anyone who might be around to spot her. Her mother had asked for any fairies that could be spared to make their way to Burgess to help look for Jack Frost. The news had hit Baby Tooth like a ton of bricks; she had become exceptionally close to Jack since they were properly introduced a year and a half ago, and she had become extremely concerned for the well-being of her generally new friend. It was not long, however, before she realised she should have known something was wrong. Even when Jack was busy, as he was in Northern Winter, at least one of her sisters would return from a night's work with a story of the Frost Boy with the pretty teeth; the fairies were practically his own group of personal fangirls and every story involving him spread like wildfire through the mini-fairy population. So of course, when she heard her mother's call, she had flown straight to Burgess, along with the fairies in the area and those back at the palace who were on their day off; everyone wanted to help look for Jack.

Once she had met with the other Guardians, they had all decided to do a search of Burgess and the lands surrounding it. They had split up and Baby Tooth found herself flying over the countryside surrounding Burgess. Her speed did not impede her sharp senses; her eyes being well practiced in picking up any spots of white from the centuries of collecting teeth. She was looking for the usual signs of Jack; a spot of random snow here, some icicles over there, or most obviously, a white haired boy making his way God knows where.

Baby Tooth began to see an old building in the distance. She had left all signs of civilisation quite some distance behind, the scenery underneath her being nothing but farmland, and so the old building caught her attention. As she flew closer, she could see signs of life from the building. Small slivers of light were able to be spotted as they seeped out from some of the boarded up windows, the darkness of the night making them jump out at her from quite some distance. She headed towards these slivers of light, intending on shooting through to take a peek at whatever, or whoever was in the building. They had been told Jack was took by Pitch, and she had gotten word from her mother during her search that the Nightmare King's lair was closed off. If Jack wasn't in there, he had to be somewhere. And somewhere was here.

She landed precariously on a windowsill which had light peeking out through the wooden boards. The light was flickering, so it was likely from a fire or a candle rather than an electrical light bulb. The gaps were quite small, but as a tooth fairy, she was well practiced in flitting through small gaps in windows to do her duty. She edged closer to the crack, but found that she could not pass through it. It was not that she couldn't fit, rather, that she was prevented by some invisible force from doing so. She looked more closely at the gap, checking for anything that might be preventing her entry, but there was nothing; no glass or anything. She flew a small distance away from the window, and shot quickly towards the small crack, expecting to just shoot through whatever was blocking her advance. To her dismay, it did not work, and she merely ricocheted off the barrier as if it were made off wall.

Seriously confused, she peeked in through the gap. She could make out the figure of a man sat at a table beside the fire; he was in conversation with another man, but she could not hear what they were saying, and she clearly could not go closer to listen. She tried to look around the room but could not see much from her position by the window. Everything was quite dark, despite the light provided from the flickering flames, with some corners of the room so dark she didn't even know if there was a wall there or not. The room was furnished like it might have been some grand office of whatever this building was used for when it was actually in use.

Baby Tooth made to fly away from the building, hoping to maybe find another entry she could try that she might pass through easier. She knew of nothing that could keep little creatures like her out of a building; if they needed to enter somewhere, they usually got in.

As she looked around the building she came across two more men, who were stood outside what looked like the main door of the place. She shot closer to the wall as she got a better look at the two men. They were both clearly very strong and both wore grumpy expressions on their faces as their eyes scanned over the area around the door as if they were looking for something. She frowned, were they guarding the building? An old, run-down building in the middle of nowhere?

Baby Tooth lifted her wings and flew in the opposite direction of the creepy warehouse, heading back towards the forest of Burgess. Something was not right, and she wanted to personally deliver the message to her mother before bringing her and the other Guardians back to this strange place.

* * *

Jack had soon become restless in his solitude. His body had long ago became frustrated and sore from being kept in the one place and position for too long. He pulled again at the black chains which held his hands over his head but still, there was no use. He allowed himself a small, frustrated growl at his inability to do _anything _that would improve his current situation.

The marks on his back were recovering, but the process was agonisingly slow and there was nothing he could do to ease the sharp pains as his body tried to put itself back together again. He stole yet another glance over his shoulder; the marks were easing, but they were not nearly as far on as he had hoped they would be. The smaller marks had covered themselves nicely, and he expected new, tender skin would show itself in the next few hours, but the larger gashes he had received were still trying to knit together. It was there also that the residual black sand was present and it had been hugely counterproductive during his recovery. When his skin tried to knit back together in these areas, the dark sand burned angrily as it fought to remain lodged in place against his body's natural defenses. It was like an infection, and his immune system raged towards the darkness, increasing his body temperature as it tried to rid the injuries of the black substance so that healing could progress unhindered.

From the looks of it, his body was winning the battle against the nightmarish sand, but the process was taking a toll on Jack's well-being. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his face clammy and flushed, while his head had begun to throb. He hoped that his current feverish state was just a side effect of the healing and as he recovered, the fever would subside.

His entire being cried out for sleep, for the chance to shut off consciousness for a while so energy could be spent on healing but he denied himself the luxury. He had already succumbed to one nightmare, he sure wasn't going to fall right into Pitch's hands by leaving himself vulnerable to another. Yet, with every minute still spent in his pained state, he had started to worry over how long it was going to be before his fellow Guardians arrived, and just what else Pitch had planned.

And so he waited. Waited for his energy to be returned again so he could work out an escape plan. From head to toe his body ached, but he learned to dissociate himself from the pain, which muted it slightly.

"Well Jack?" Pitch greeted as he emerged from the shadows, "How are you holding up?" He questioned, a slight mocking tone to his voice. Jack just ignored him, seeing no point in acknowledging the man who had tortured him.

"What is it? Cat got your tongue?" Pitch laughed gleefully, sounding every bit the madman he was. Jack just glared as ferociously as he could in response to the Nightmare King's jibes.

"Oh come on Jack, aren't you going to say anything? You always have something to say!" He continued, surprised at the boy's defiance, he had expected him to be pleading for mercy by now.

"Ugh Pitch," Jack sighed, his desire for the Bogeyman to stop talking overruling his desire to refuse to respond. "Isn't there some bed you should be crawling under?"

Pitch chuckled darkly, "Always the funny one. I have to wonder how you manage it in your current situation."

"Easy, the Guardians will come, and then I'll have the satisfaction of seeing _you_ squirm." Jack replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips to taunt the Nightmare King further. His moments of weakness were not for Pitch's eyes.

"Oh they're coming." Pitch simply stated, Jack's attention shooting to him, his body tensing as he waited for him to continue. "But it won't matter. If not for you, I would have won our last battle, and you are here. On top of that, I'm stronger; I have a horde of demons under my command." He approached Jack as he spoke, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Let them come." He moved back to meet the boy's glare, but underneath the anger, Pitch could feel the fear, the hopelessness taking root.

For an instant as Pitch droned on in his velvety voice, Jack believed him. The arguments he made made sense, and that scared Jack; it is hard to remain so sure when faced with very valid counter arguments.

But it did not take long for Jack to remember that Pitch was twisting past events in his favour.

"You're wrong." Pitch once again looked towards Jack, infuriated by the defiant hope written all over the boy's face.

"Oh am I?" He challenged.

Jack's smirk grew tauntingly wide, "Yes. Last time, the Guardians had only one light of belief, they were weakened. As well as that, you took Sandy out of the picture, and everyone knows he's your biggest threat. Yes Pitch, let them come." He finished, his voice layered with confidence to hide the pain he felt.

It was that confidence that enraged Pitch. He wanted Jack broken, but it was starting to seem like anything he done or said to the boy was just going to be met with a smirk and some witty comment. His anger hit new levels when Jack used his own words against him, and he silently called the boy's ankle cuff into action, sending heated shocks through the teen's body. He smirked with a sadistic form of glee as he watched Jack jerk involuntarily, his face contorted in pain. But still, no scream. Ah well, Pitch thought as he pulled out a very familiar object.

Once the shocks had subsided Jack kept his gaze at the ground, breathing deeply to help him regain some control of himself before looking towards Pitch again. The marks he had received from the whip made every tightening of his muscles in response to the shocks seem twice as painful. Once Jack felt able, he looked towards the Bogeyman once more, and the sight he was met with made his stomach drop in dread. Twirling between the fingertips of the Nightmare King was Jack's staff. He looked at the spirit of winter with a dark, threatening gaze, savouring the instant dread that flushed across his face.

Jack remembered the last time his staff had been broken, by the very man stood before him; it had been a pain that ripped through to his very core. Since then he had learned of how he first came in contact with the wizened stick, and had placed even more emotional significance on the old piece of wood that had become like another limb to him. He had saved his sister with that staff.

He steeled himself for the agony that was sure to come once Pitch broke his one, cherished possession. "Just do it." Jack ordered, looking determinedly towards the ground.

Pitch snarled angrily; he wanted to see the effects of the staff being broken as it happened, and he couldn't do that if the boy was keeping his head bowed at the ground. "Do what?" He questioned innocently.

Jack froze as confusion wracked his mind, It's not like Pitch could use the staff, what else could he want with it? He looked up, his defences down as surprise flickered on his face.

As soon as blue eyes met yellow, Pitch smirked and cleanly broke the staff in two. Agony flashed across Jack's face as he cried out; he had let himself be tricked into putting his guard down. He instinctively tried to curl in on himself but it only caused more pain to his already highly damaged wrists.

"Dammit Pitch!" He growled out, glaring up to the dark man in front of him. Pitch simply smirked, throwing the broken pieces of wood on the floor. Whatever miracle had happened that had fixed the staff last time, it was sure not to be repeated in the state Jack was in. He turned to leave, not bothering to say much more to the hurting spirit.

He felt power reign within him; the surprise of the boy and the anguish he felt when he realised he had dropped his defences at the worst time had caused a sharp increase in the young Guardian's emotions. It was the first time he had seen through the cocky, arrogant walls Jack had put up since being here, and _oh_ what a glimpse it was. Fear reigned supreme underneath the spirit's surface: the fear of a Guardian, an immortal child. Underneath his confidant stance the pain he was under was taking its toll on the boy's emotional well-being. In spite of himself, seeds of doubt had took root, about whether or not the other Guardians would be able to defeat Pitch and reclaim Jack. They were small, and he denied them, but they were there. The rush was intoxicating and left Pitch feeling highly satisfied. However, he was also left with a tinge of sadness; he would not catch Jack as unawares again, yet he craved more of the delightful fear the boy exposed when he did.

It was time to let the demon in.

* * *

"Do you think they worked?" Sam questioned aloud. Once Dean had awoken he had told them of what he had dreamed about. Sam appreciated what the little Sandman was trying to do; by making the Guardians more recognisable from their own childhood, he hoped Dean would have more faith in them. The section of the dream for Jack was stranger, but Sam had to just assume Sandy knew what he was doing.

"I have no idea, I don't feel any different." Dean offered, uncharacteristically unsure.

"They're close." Announced Cas, turning towards the door and keeping the occasional glance on the window.

Through the window, which had been left open slightly despite the cool air outside, shot in a little bird like creature. Sam and Cas recognised the little creature as a mini Tooth Fairy due to her brightly coloured feathers but Dean recognised her from his dream. This was the fairy with the golden boxes.

"Oh my God." Dean muttered under his breath. Both Sam and Cas shot their gazes between him and the little fairy who was squeaking away in a high pitched voice.

"You can see?" Sam gasped as the other Guardians appeared, either through the door or the window or, in Bunny's case, the floor.

Dean was left in shocked silence at the appearance of the characters from his dreams. "I see," He replied quietly as he found his voice again.

The Guardians watched with smiling faces as Dean processed their appearance, all knowing enough to remain quiet once they saw the shock, awe and wonder on the elder Winchester's face, bringing out a shadow of the youthful boy he once was.

"You- You're real." Dean stammered, still slightly struggling to believe what he was seeing with his own two eyes.

"It worked," North began before turning to Sandy, "Good job Sandy! Gold star!"

"Dean, are you ok?" Sam questioned, highly unaccustomed to seeing his brother so shell shocked.

"I'm fine." He replied, his eyes never leaving the Guardians for fear that they would disappear if he looked away and he would have to convince himself he was crazy.

Cas, not feeling the need to delve deeper into the mental or emotional well-being of the elder brother once he had assured them he was fine, turned to the Guardians. "Sam said you were conducting a search of the area, did you find anything?" He questioned, getting right to the point.

"Ah yes! Toothy? You can explain best!" North replied.

Tooth smiled widely as North indicated for her to relay what had happened. "Well, I called on some of my girls to help with the search so we could split up and cover more ground. They were sent to search the wider area while we searched the woods."

"We checked Pitch's layer but it was closed over, has been for a while; nothings came up or went down from there in the past couple of weeks at least." Bunny explained.

"So you found nothing?" Questioned Sam, disappointment tinging his voice.

"Well no," Tooth began, "We didn't, but Baby Tooth found something: a warehouse. It was quite a bit outside of town surrounded by farmlands. It was broken down, unused but there were lights coming from some of the windows."

"Did she see inside? Is Jack there?" Sam questioned.

"That's the thing, she couldn't get inside; there was like this barrier preventing her from entering the building, and then she saw men guarding the doors so she thought it best to return to us." As she finished her story she looked over at Baby Tooth proudly.

"A barrier?" Dean repeated, his attention having been drawn by the story as he went into full hunter mode. He had resolved to treat this like any other case and hunting was something he could do and do well, that was not about to change.

Sam merely grimaced and shrugged, having no real idea of what would prevent a Tooth Fairy from entering a building like that; she was a Tooth Fairy, shouldn't she be able to get into every building?

"The demons must have it warded." Cas concluded. "It would appear this is the correct place."

"But how are we going to get in?" Bunny pressed, "If it's warded against us the best we'll be able to do is throw rocks at the place."

"It wouldn't be warded against all of us," Cas replied, turning towards Sam and Dean, "There are no wards for humans."

"It's a warehouse full of demons and whatever this lot are after." Dean stated.

"Pitch Black." Tooth piped up helpfully.

"We'll never get him out on our own, we don't even know if our weapons work against this Pitch Black." He continued, insistent on being realistic about the situation.

"You wouldn't have to do it on your own." Cas replied, he bent over the table as he drew some symbols on a page, before lifting the sheet of paper to display his work. "Find these sigils, they will be on the inside of each exterior wall to the building, destroy them all, and we can get in."

Sam took the sheet and looked closer at the markings; there were six drawn on the page.

"You may not see these two," Cas continued as he gestured to the bottom two sigils, "They are angel warding but I assume if they warded it against immortals they warded against angels too; and you'll know if you won't judging by whether or not I follow you into the building."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam replied.

"Most weapons work against Pitch and his nightmares," North stated in response to Dean's earlier query. "I have swords, Bunny has boomerangs, Tooth has her wings and Sandy makes whips; they all work fine." He explained with a shrug.

"Ok, let's do it." Dean agreed, reaching to the bottom of his bed for their weapons bag.

* * *

**A/N: Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter, I'd appreciate it so very very very much! :) Thanks for reading! :D**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry for the wait! The Ulster Fleadh was held in my town this year and it took writing out of my mind completely, but I got back to it eventually :) Thanks for keeping patient everyone! Big thank you to the lovely reviewers from the last chapter: **Tala White 14**, **No one important**, **MysteryGirl7Freak**, **AlexatheNerd **and **Medsall: **Each review means the world guys, I can't thank you all enough! Huge thanks of course also goes to everyone who has favourited and followed the story so far! :D**

**Disclaimer: Not mine :(**

**I'm gonna shut up now and let everyone move on to the actual chapter, do enjoy! :)**

* * *

Cas brought the Winchester's to a sheltered area among some trees close to the old warehouse. The Guardians had used one of North's snowglobes and, to the brother's surprise, had arrived to the chosen spot a split second before them.

"Will you be able to go in?" Dean asked, looking towards Cas for confirmation.

"No. It's fully warded." Cas replied, his earlier guesses being confirmed.

"Ok, looks like it's just me and you Sammy." Stated Dean as he patted his brother on the shoulder. Both men gave nods to the group, refreshing themselves on the plan once more before heading off towards the building.

* * *

"Jack Frost." Crowley announced as he entered the room Jack was being held in. "Spirit of Winter. I must say it's quite an honour." He continued, a slight mocking tone to his voice. "It's not every day someone like me meets someone like you."

Jack glared heatedly at the demon. Despite Pitch's best efforts, his body was quickly recovering and he could feel his strength returning. Once the dark nightmare sand had been sufficiently destroyed, the speed at which his wounds had worked on repairing themselves was quite remarkable. "Different social circles, you know how it is." He quipped in reply, blatantly ignoring the annoyingly cocky attitude of the demon before him. "Am I supposed to know who the hell you are?"

"Name's Crowley."

"Well _Crowley, _why are you here? Better yet, why am I here? It's not like a demon to help with something without some sort of motive; why help Pitch?" Jack questioned forcefully, impatient for answers. He knew all too well that he would not be in his current situation if not for the involvement of the black eyed creatures.

Crowley gazed thoughtfully at the defiant teen before him. Truthfully he was surprised and grudgingly impressed by the immortal's resilience, but then he supposed he should have expected as much; unthreatening as he looked in the present, the boy before him held mountains of power within him. "Now Jack, no need to get all worked up." He began, when seeing the boy still refused to break his deadly glare he continued. "What do you know of Lucifer?"

Jack's anger broke to be replaced with shock once he heard the unexpected question. "The devil? Not much, what about him?"

"He walks the earth." Crowley responded simply, as if that was all the answer Jack would need.

"I don't follow, what does that have to do with me?" Jack pressed.

Crowley glared at Jack, growing peeved at his questions. "The devil thrives in the cold. There were rumours that he would seek out the Spirit of Winter himself to plunge the world into an ice age." Crowley replied smoothly. "Naturally, I can't let that happen."

Jack raised a dubious eyebrow at the demon, "So you think _I'm _going to help the _devil_?" Allowing his voice to portray how ridiculous the notion was.

"No of course not, you're a Guardian! But you're not the only winter spirit out there, are you?" Crowley questioned rhetorically. "See, not all of us support Lucifer and his plans, and once we heard these theories, we got to thinking." Crowley paused for a small moment in thought, gazing towards Jack like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. "Not one of us knew of a way to kill an Immortal, so if Lucifer did pair up with a dangerous one, we'd be able to do nothing but _stand_ and _watch_!" Crowley explained, his voice rising for emphasis the longer he spoke. Jack remained totally silent, afraid to jump to any early conclusions about the demon's involvement.

Crowley smirked and strode over to a blanket covered table that had been in the room as long as Jack was aware. He had thought it to just be an old table with old computers and the like covered by an old sheet like the ones you would expect to see in old buildings such as the one he found himself in. As the demon whipped off the sheet, however, he found himself to be extremely mistaken. Jack's breath flushed out of his lungs as he took in the array of different implements on the table. His fears were being realised, and Jack did not know how much pain he could put up with; between the whips, the _long_ recovery from those marks, the nightmares and his staff being snapped, once again, before his very eyes. Jack had only just gotten some reprieve, and now, that too was to be broken in front of him.

The demon reached for an apron, reminiscent of the ones worn by crazy mad scientists in bad movies. "Do you have any idea how unique you are Jack?" Crowley questioned as he fixed the apron over his expensive, black suit and fixing a pair of reasonably thick gloves over his hands. "There are two groups of immortals: Nature and Legend, and you sit atop both of the food chains." Crowley explained as he turned towards the Guardian of Fun, pleased at the fear that seeped past his defiance becoming evident through the boys empathetic eyes. "Don't you see," He continued, "If I can crush you, then I can squash any immortal that will dare pose a threat to me."

"You've already took out my powers, what more could you want?" Jack questioned, bravely keeping any hint of quivers out of his voice. A demon's skill at inflicting pain was legendary, and he refused to show any vulnerability in the face of such an adversary.

Crowley smirked, "I want to find your weak spot. And I don't mean belief. It was foolish of Black to rest his hopes of triumph on what the little brats of the world believed in." Crowley paused, reaching for a blunt, black metal bar sat in front on the table. "If you want to do something, you're best doing it yourself."

"What are you doing?" Jack questioned as the demon moved towards him.

"Shh," Crowley shushed, which only made Jack more uncomfortable. Without any further warning, Crowley swung the bar, making impact with the underside of Jack's ribs. The spirit gasped and growled as the wind was knocked from him, but the demon merely lifted the bar and looked at it quizzically, as if it had not done it's proper job.

"Hmm, not iron then." He mused. Jack just looked at him with a pained expression, letting out a low groan in response.

* * *

"There's someone here." Announced one of the two demons blocking the main entrance of the building. He pricked his ears for any sounds, eyes set on scanning the overgrown grass in front of him watching for any further movement. He had sensed human souls close by and he was willing to bet it was the Winchester's, especially since Crowley had just informed them that they were in town.

Sure enough, Dean Winchester stepped out from between the grass, smiling at him cockily from across the small clearing.

"Right in one!" Dean called, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"Winchester." He greeted, eyes shooting black in the face of a threat.

Behind him, he heard his partner grunt in pain. He turned and was met with the sight of the younger Winchester brother, the vessel, pulling that nuisance of a knife out of his companion's back. He turned back towards Dean, starting to back away from both men slowly but as soon as he turned, Dean plunged an angel knife through his chest and he felt himself fade into unconsciousness.

Once the demon had fallen to the ground, Dean looked towards Sam, "We good?" He questioned.

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

"Let's go then."

The brothers entered the building opting to first go left in search of the sigils. They had toyed with the idea of splitting up but ultimately decided against it, agreeing that it would be better to get the job done safely rather than quickly.

Using their torches, they scanned the entrance room of the building for the symbols or any dangers that might be lurking in a corner somewhere. The room was reasonably large, with a high ceiling which stretched right up to the top of the first floor. There were stairs leading up to the first floor, and a balcony ran along the sidewalls of the large room.

It was at the wall where the balcony ended, the front wall of the building which had the entrance door, that Sam spotted two of the sigils. As they looked closer, casting torchlight on the walls, they found that the entire surface was covered in sigils in every reachable area.

"Dean." He called quietly, gesturing to his finding. Dean nodded in response before following Sam up the stairs where they followed the balcony to the markings.

"These are the two angel ones, do you see any of the others?" Questioned Sam as he sprayed an 'X' on each of the symbols.

"I'm looking." Dean replied, his light scanning the area. "They're all at the bottom, a couple of feet apart." He announced, illuminating each one as he did to show Sam each drawing, before they returned to the bottom floor to finish that wall.

* * *

Crowley paced back over to the table, putting down the rod and lifting instead an oversized container. Jack watched the older man carefully, trying to pre-empt what was coming based on the demon's movements. There was no indication as to what was in the container, but he doubted it was anything good. Crowley swung the container, splashing him with the contents. Jack closed his eyes as he readied himself for the pain that was sure to come. Yet all he felt was a slight heated tingle that lasted merely a few seconds before hearing the rattle of something hitting the floor around him.

Jack opened his eyes in confusion, looking towards the demon who had approached him and was currently watching for Jack's reaction, before looking towards the substance which was now scattered on the floor below.

"Salt." Jack stated, a laugh bubbling to his lips, the pain in his side momentarily forgotten. "Salt," He repeated dubiously, looking towards the demon, a wide smirk on his face.

Crowley just narrowed his eyes, glaring at the boy in front of him. The clogs were spinning in his head. Truly, he had thought the salt would have more of an impact, if not because he was a spirit then because his entire existence revolved around _ice_ and ice yields to salt.

Crowley strode back over to the table, pouring some salt into one of the bowls beside a can filled with water. He took one of the knives on the table and dipped it first into the water before covering it with the salt. He had a hunch this would have a bit more of sting to it, plus, even if it didn't, no-one liked getting salt in their wounds.

He strode over to the white haired immortal, ignoring the boy's questions and protests once he realised saw what was held in the demon's hands.

Crowley drew the blade over Jack's pale white skin and smiled at the result. Where the knife came in contact with the boy's blood the red liquid began to steam and hiss angrily. It would appear that immortals didn't like salt either, they just had a more durable outer protective layer than other spirits and of course, demons.

Jack's face had contorted into one of pain as he gasped and panted in an attempt to remain in control of his body. Crowley could see it, he was reaching the boy's threshold. He looked over Jack's shoulder as he saw the Bogeyman materialising from the shadows, obviously having been drawn to the tangible fear which permeated the room.

Crowley had to admit that he had never been as exposed to salt as Jack was at the minute. He was king of the Crossroads and people generally don't torture _kings._ But he had heard stories of the pain. So Crowley could only imagine the agony Jack was feeling as he drew the knife over his cool skin before plunging it into the guardian's side.

Jack jerked instantly in protest to the knife once it delved deeper into his body, breath rushing too quickly into his lungs before he let out a horrendously pain-filled scream. The sensation caused by the little white grains was unexplainable, it truly felt as if his body was burning from the inside. Crowley grinned maliciously at the sound, and unbeknownst to Jack, Pitch reflected the demon's expression with a taunting smile of his own.

Crowley moved to turn away from Jack, who was now panting in breaths to help soothe the ache he felt from the knife wound, but he paused as he watched Pitch receive a message from one of his nightmares. The Bogeyman grimaced angrily before gesturing to Crowley that they needed to talk in private.

Crowley scowled before setting down the knife and making his way towards his companion.

"What is it?" He demanded in a hushed voice.

"The Guardians are outside, they are with a stranger." Pitch replied.

"Just one?" Crowley questioned in response.

"Yes." Pitch confirmed. "Will your defences work?"

"Well if they weren't the Guardians would not be outside at the minute, would they?" Crowley snapped. "But still, station groups at the entrance, we don't want to be caught short if they do manage to get in."

Pitch nodded in confirmation before relaying the instructions to his nightmare, ordering it to gather the others. He then left to speak to Crowley's demons, while Crowley himself turned back to continue his work with the Guardian of Fun.

* * *

The Winchester's continued around the building, keeping their footsteps light and silent, weapons at the ready and senses on guard as they knew that not even the shadows around them were safe. They reached a corner and once around it, they were stood in a long, dusty corridor that had several doors placed on the wall to the right, leading to various other rooms in the building. On the wall to their left, they struck gold. There were once again countless sigils scattered around the surface of the wall and it was not long before they had found some they were looking for and cancelled them out.

As they turned toward the third wall they were met with a dark horse storming towards them. Dean acted on impulse, grabbing his machete and swinging it at the creature just as it was about to collide into him. To his great relief, the horse dissipated into black sand once he struck it. Both him and Sam shared a bewildered look. "What the hell was that?!" Dean questioned.

Sam shrugged, shaking his head slightly before responding. "Must've been a nightmare."

They didn't have long to recover from the encounter as they heard hooves rushing towards them from both sides. Readying their weapons, the brother's tensed in preparation for the attack. Before long, the first of the dark animals rounded the corner. There was not as many as they had feared, and though vicious looking, they were reasonably easy to dispose of. A few demons accompanied them, providing a bit more of a challenge, but between Dean's borrowed angel blade and Sam's knife, they got the job done quickly.

Once finished, they continued down the corridor, cancelling out the desired sigils on the way. It was as they were making their way towards the final side of the building that they heard a blood-curdling scream pierce the silence of the building. Both brother's came to a stop as the wind began to batter the building as if in response to the cry, yet they felt no draft nor breeze hit them from through the cracks in the walls and windows. Goosebumps flashed over their skin in a flash as they registered the increased eeriness of their surroundings. It only took a glance between them for the pair to acknowledge the increased urgency of their situation before they set off to their task once again.

The final sigils were cancelled out without incident and once complete, the two moved towards the entrance foyer where they had arranged to meet with the rest of their group. As they came towards the large entrance hall, they could hear what sounded like a fight in progress. The brother's rushed towards the scene, remaining hidden around a corner as they peeked out at what was happening below.

From the looks of things, the four Guardians, along with Cas, had been swarmed by an army of nightmares and demons as soon as they had made their appearance in the building. Though they all seemed to be managing quite well, they were quickly becoming overrun. The once gentle and caring appearances of the guardians had turned transformed into the sights of seasoned warriors, and Cas remained as fearsome as ever. There were piles of sand littered everywhere, but it was the demons that seemed to be proving most problematic for the group, with Cas being the only one who was able to kill. Dean moved to help their friends, but Sam held him back, shaking his head.

"What are you doing?!" Dean growled at his brother, "We need to help them."

"Dean, if we go out there now we'll be putting ourselves at risk too. They must not know we're here, I'd like to keep it that way." Sam replied, ever the strategic voice of logic.

"But they're gonna kill them!" Dean said angrily, affronted by his brother's lack of concern that their group, especially Cas, was in danger.

"They won't kill them! But we can't help them if we've got ourselves in trouble too." Sam reasoned, and Dean had to grudgingly admit that his brother was right. And so they waited, and watched as the Guardians yielded to the combined onslaught of nightmares and demons and then, finally, Cas.

"C'mon," Sam said, pulling his brother away from the scene.

"Where?" Dean questioned.

"To find Jack."

* * *

**A/N: Have to leave it there for now but I'll be back (hopefully sooner than with this time) with more. Thanks so much for reading and if you really want to be a star could you please leave a review to let me know what you thought? Please? :) Thanks guys! :)**


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